Andreas Journey into Wonderland
  • Author - Andrea
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 53 of 2955
  • Story Codes - F-f, f-self, Other-f, consensual, bondage, chastity, extreme, loving, mind-control, non-fiction, torture, toys
  • Post Date - 6/24/2017

1. Prologue

Hi, my name is Andrea and I here want to present my journey into wonderland.

The story you have before you is actually my BDSM biography. Some facts about my real life and identity are of course somewhat alienated. So are the names, except of my slave's name, with in fact is Andrea. You will learn why.

The storyline, however, is my real story. At the age of about forty I suddenly felt the need to write it down. Maybe as a therapy. You will learn to know why if you read it all. And because I wanted to post it in an international BDSM story forum I have written it in English. So please be polite, my mother tongue is German.

In case you are really interested in this girls story I would advise you to download it, read it as a pdf-file, or print it. I has around 97 pages.

There are a lot of nice and (very)long scenes and fantasies in here. But not only. This is, as I have said above, somewhat a biography. With all the ups and downs a BDSM-life can possibly offer. Enjoy!

P.S.: And when you have read it all, there are possibly two presents for you at the end of the story. But do not cheat (-:

2. How it all began

At the age of 13, while being on holiday with my parents, it came to me that there was something special about me, although I did not really know what. We stayed in a little Bed & Breakfast hotel in Bavaria near the border of the GDR (the Berlin wall was still standing).

When I went for the loo shortly after arrival, I found a bunch of magazines for entertainment while being on business. I rushed through the magazines for something interesting and was caught by a magazine for grown ups, that I today would call a plain vanilla entertainment guide for couples that were sexually done with each other. For my today standards this magazine was crap, but at the age of 13 it attracted me as a moth being drawn to a burning candle. I went through the pages, looking for good pictures of naked people in various poses, giggled about some pictures, and stumbled upon an article about what was called BDSM.

I had, of course, never heard of BDSM, but I was instantly attracted to a picture that showed a woman tied to a cross while being whipped by another women. By thinking back I can only describe my then feelings like an atomic bomb exploding in my head, because I instantly knew that I wanted to be the woman tied to the cross. With the whipping I was not so sure, but I very well could imagine the presence of another women, doing a little petting with me. Looking at this very picture I felt something that I had never felt before: I got wet between my legs and I felt a sudden and overwhelmingly urgent need to touch me.

There we go. I rubbed myself towards what could have been my first real orgasm, touching my suddenly very sensitive spot with my right hand while keeping my mouth shut with my left hand to suppress my moaning - as I heard a knock at the door and my mother's voice, telling me that other people too want to use the loo. I managed to shout out "seconds", while I kept rubbing in vain.

But imagining my mother waiting in front of the door suddenly took me down. Frustrated as I never was before, I wiped myself clean between my legs, ripped the picture out of the magazine, put it in my trouser's pocket, flushed the toilet and went out.

I certainly was blushing red, and my mother looked at me somehow puzzled. Nobody can lie to a mother, so I am pretty sure that she had an idea about what I could have done in there.

The rest of the day went on boring with some sightseeing, with me being a real teenage terrorist, grumbling all the time about nothing, having arguments with my parents at any little occasion. I tried my best to be sent back to the hotel as a reprimand for my bad behaviour, but to no avail.

Thank heaven that my parents considered me as being old enough to have a hotel room on my own. At night, kneeling on my bed, legs spread, the picture from the magazine laid out in front of me, fantasizing to be the bound woman, I rubbed myself into my first real orgasm. However, with my left hand keeping my mouth shut. I had no idea how loud my moaning would be. Very loud, as I know today. The tingling running over my naked body was tantalizing and requested some attention from my left hand, but I did not dare to remove it from my mouth.

This night, I slept like a baby and also was an irritatingly well-behaving teenage-girl for the rest of the holidays.

The reader should imagine a time without internet and Google. Today it is very easy for a teenager to find information about BDSM if interested, but in my youth there was next to no chance to inform myself. What I knew after this episode was that I could probably like the idea of being tied up - and of being with a woman. As I was not interested in boys anyway, this made sense so far. But it was in the middle of the 1980's. If you are a young lesbian today, there might be some disappointments with your parents, but you can expect tolerance after some discussion. Not at my time! And my parents still do not know about it. They have reached an by age now where I do not dare to bother them with details about my sexual needs.

And for bondage it was quite the same. When I was looking at my schoolmates I could never ever imagine that somebody else could feel the same as I did. I felt different and somehow secluded. Pupils today, as I have heard, do talk very frankly about the various versions of sexuality. A look on youtube tells you all about it.

Thanks to heaven again, both my parents had jobs, such that after school I had our apartment all for myself. I started with some shy bondage experiments with my mother's clothes line, trying to tie my hands in front of me, and, much more exciting, behind my back. The knots I used where laughable but dangerous. On one occasion, having my hands tied on my back and having rubbed myself to orgasm against my bedpost I could not get out. All in a sudden the sweet afterglow broke down and I frantically twisted my hands to loose the knot. To no avail. My brain went into overdrive, imagining me, hands tied on the back, naked and obviously having masturbated against my bedpost to be found by my parents. Luckily I had not also tied my ankles, which I had done on previous occasions. Else, I would have been stuck. In sheer panic I ran into the kitchen, fumbled open the drawer with the knives, took out my father's meat knife and began, slowly and suddenly calm and cautious, to cut through the clothes line encircling my wrists. Stupid-me had used five loops! It was quite a stressful task, because my hands were already trembling and the knot had tightened so much that I had only very little slack to hold the knife and keep cutting through my bonds. Twice or more often I cut myself instead of the clothes line, but after what felt like eternity I could get free. However, not for good. Looking at my hands I was about to cry. The tight clothes line had left red and deep marks around my wrists and there were tiny bleeding traces of little cuttings from the knife. For the next week or so I only would wear some of my sweat shirts with long and worn out sleeves, extremely cautious in my movements to not let them slip up. My aversion against knife releases definitely stems from this episode.

As over-reaction is very normal in teenage years, I ripped my preciously kept picture from the very magazine into pieces, dumped it and swore to myself that I never ever would do this stupid bondage thing again. I kept this oath for several years, only fantasizing about being tied up while masturbating - and hating me for this.

And then I met her. At the age of 16 I was very close with another girl from my school. We had met on a school party and, by chance, had danced together, coming closer to each other with each dance. As nature takes its course, we began to meet each other after school, mostly at my home, because her mother did not work. It was so obvious as the night is dark that she also was attracted to girls, but we both were very shy at the beginning. At some point I lost my nerve and tricked her by spilling my glass of orange juice over my top, pretending it would be an accident. Of course I instantly put off the top. As I had planned this I was wearing extremely tight shorts and no bra, such that she could clearly see my erect nipples and get a very good idea about the rest of my body. Her eyes opened wide and we looked at each other like a cat locating it's prey. She reached out for one of my nipples, not really sure if she should do this, when I took her hand and put it on my left breast. Instantly we laid in each others arms, kissing thirstily, breathing heavily, and rubbing our bodies at each others. The next weeks were a mind blowing bliss of afternoon teenage sex how only two girls can experience it together. No danger to become pregnant - we have been in heaven. As nature is what nature is, with each date, my fantasies of being tied up grew stronger again, together with a strange but attractive feeling - I fantasized about to be dominated. At some afternoon, laying together in the afterglow I asked her if she ever had fantasized to tie up somebody.

At first she looked puzzled, then she began to laugh out a "No", as she is no weirdo. We lay quietly for some time, as she turned to me again and asked me if I had such ideas. I was not sure what to answer, because she had made her opinion as clear as possible. However, I chose to be honest, hoping she would at least be curious about it.

"Yes", I said, "I would like to be tied up and used sexually. If you really like me", I whispered in her ear, "perhaps we could do it once, just to find out if you like it, too." Oh god was I praying she would say yes.

"Okay", she said unsure, "when you like this, I'll give it a try. But only because I like you."

So far, so good, and so the clothes line again. I asked her to bind my wrists behind may back which she did. I then laid back on my bed, spread my legs and looked at her, begging her to use me with my eyes. Clearly she did not have any idea what to do now, like most plain-vanillas have not an idea what to do with a bound partner.

"Why don't you touch my breasts sweetie", I whispered encouragingly, "and touch me down there."

She began to do as ordered, reluctantly, as it was obvious to see. She touched me a little, and as I began to moan a bit, she knelt back between my spread legs and shook her head.

"I cannot do this", she said. "I want your arms around me when we are together. I just cannot understand what you get out of this. NO!"

She confirmed her opinion with a suddenly firm voice. She untied my hands and we laid quietly together for some time. Then she left, because my mother would be home soon.

I felt so disappointed and I feared that she would not come back. "Stupid bitch" I muttered to myself. And so it was. After this incident, we only met two times again, but both we felt that it was not the same as before. We split up.

We were teenagers, and teenagers are much more serious about things than grown ups are or should be, but this was hell, for both of us. In this times it was no way easy to find a confessing lesbian. And as she had left me, I again swore to me not to come up with this stupid bondage thing again.

For the next years I stayed secluded, with my parents becoming obviously irritated. I never introduced a boy-friend or would humbly ask if he could perhaps please please stay with me overnight and so on. I did my duties at school and left with good grades, such that I could go straight to university and study nature science. Yes, I am a nerd.

3. Things become better

It was the middle of the 1990's, internet was dawning and the best place to be for internet was a university. There was strong computational power and email was already available, however, with no one to mail to, except fellow students. Germany was quite behind the US concerning internet. There were servers with capacity and speed, not these laughable and sleepy telephone connections you could buy these days for your home, and for tremendous fees.

I was immersed in my studies, struggling with the pace of the lectures and the advanced mathematics I had to become a master of in order to become a good physicist. And I lost no thought about this stupid bondage thing. I not even really thought about sex in these years, besides some occasional masturbation.

After my successful intermediate examination I found that I was old enough to move into my own flat. However, Munich is a very expensive town for a student, and physics is a full time study that leaves not much a time for occasional jobs. After discussing this problem with my parents, they agreed to pay half of the rent. Quietly, as it was not difficult to figure out, my parents hoped that me and an apartment of my own could speed up this irritatingly lagging boy-friend thing. But I had to earn the other half of the rent. I thought this to be a fair deal, but I worried about earning my half in Munich. The solution was that I moved to Dresden, where they had (and still have) an excellent university and ridiculously cheap apartments. It was nine years after the German reunion and eastern Germany was still run down from socialism. For a two room apartment in downtown Dresden I had to pay 300 DM, that would be 150 Euros today!

As I have lived most of my puberty secluded, with one sad exception, I was not really good in making friends. Additionally, I was an alien from western Germany, which also was not really helpful. But as nature goes, at some rainy autumn day at the university's computer room I entered the cursed word bondage into Altavista. As Altavista popped to life my eyes were literally drawn out of my head. There were pages on pages on bondage, and pictures, pictures and more pictures of tied women in all poses and positions. Instantly I looked left and right to ensure that nobody could spy my screen.

I blushed, clicked Altavista away, left the computer room, and decided to go back at night, when surely nobody would be there. The rest of the afternoon was passing ever so slowly that I hardly could stand it. And nervous I was, gosh was I nervous. And worked up as only a long time ago. At 8 p.m. I went back to the computer room, logged in with shivering fingers, called up Altavista, entered bondage and went through the results. What a relief to see that bondage was obviously not only a secluded weirdo's thing. Most sites I found were paysites, so they were not of interest. However, the paysites indicated a strong request for BDSM themes, which added to my relief. But I also found some free sites with pictures and stories. Good sites like Aurelie's, a french site, and, also french, auto-ligotage-free-france, a vast archive with free pictures do not exist anymore. But there also was a site that should evolve into Gromet's page.

Seeing all this I felt a breach in the dyke. Pictures from auto-ligotage, downloaded and saved, stories from Aurelie's site and Gromet's predecessor, downloaded and saved, rope tutorials, downloaded and saved, self-bondage release advices, downloaded and saved. And there it was, on some pictures, women tightly bound, obviously wriggling in their bonds and moaning into their gags, with something held or tied between their legs - the Hitachi Magic Wand.

Only when I finally got up from my chair I noticed that I was soaking wet between my legs. I was so wet that I could smell my juices though my jeans. Fuck! Okay, it is night, it is autumn, I wear a coat that goes beyond my knees. So far, so good. But I decided to walk home instead of using public transport.

I rushed home as fast as I possibly could run and, finally there, I put every file I had saved on my computer, not even knowing where to start. This was still floppy disk time, no USB-stick - and this were a lot of floppy disks!

To look at the pictures was tantalizing, Oh how was I longing to be one of these women. I stripped off my clothes, sat down in front of the computer, called up some pictures of bound women, spread my legs and realized that I was already edging. A few hard touches on my clit and I exploded into an orgasm to remember. As I came down again, literally drifting in this warm and comforting feeling of the afterglow, I realized that the last orgasm comparable with this one indeed was the one I have had with the bedpost right before this dangerous accident with the clothes line. As a thirteen year old teenager - twelve years ago! Realizing this, I started to cry. I raised my legs on the chair and, heavily sobbing, I buried my head between my knees and wrapped my arms around me, holding me as tight as possible. Heavy tears were running down my cheeks and my whole body shivered in unbelievable despair. I was mourning about all this time I had lost. It hit me as hard as ever possible that as for so many years I had deprived me from this unbelievable urge that dwells inside me. The urge of being tied up tight, being used sexually and, yes, being dominated. I am a slavegirl, I always was, and I always would be, for as long as I would live. And I finally could admit it to me.

After I had calmed down I could not help but to grin about me.

"This was a little overdone girl", I thought to myself, slowly regaining the cool logic of a scientist.

"Do not cry about the past but conquer the present and the future. And anyway", I comforted me, "you had good reason to stay away from bondage in these past years, as sad as it is."

This night, watching the pictures, I rubbed me to orgasm for a couple of times and I only stopped because I could not take anymore. I laid down on my bed and instantly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Completely against my usual schedule I woke up late the next morning and noticed that I already had missed some lectures. Good reason to stay at home - and to browse through all the data I had saved the night before. I left the pictures away in order to not work me up too high so my hands would stay away from my cunt, at least for some time. After noon I had read several stories, some obviously fiction, some seemingly real experiences. The one story that caught my very attention was Tina's Self-bondage. This outstanding story was on Gromet's predecessor and is still to be found there and on the hitlist of GaggedUtopia. Fiction or not, this was exactly what I wanted for me. However, as I soon figured out, being vibed all night without any pause would not do. Even women can suffer from over-stimulation. But first things first. I needed equipment.

4. Becoming my own slavegirl

While browsing through my bondage data my mind began to draft a list of all the things I would need. BDSM is also about equipment, and equipment is expensive, very expensive in this case. A second night in the computer room, with two panty liners in my panties to prevent, let's say drooling, I was browsing through the internet, looking up the stuff I would need to furnish out my secret identity as a slavegirl. And more and more disappointed I got. Even with an average salary at disposal the equipment turned out to be very expensive. Ropes and padlocks are cheap and I could buy a bunch of them. Shackles would also cost not too much when bought in a building supply store.

But what about the outfit? Some leather, some latex or even patent leather - how turning on this stuff is. But completely out of reach with my limited funds. Not to forget about the rent I had to pay. For the rent, and my really small demands for a living, I had found a job as a student assistant with the professor I thought about to do my diploma with. Last not least the Hitachi. As I could relinquish leather or latex for the time being, as turning on as they were, but I definitely would never ever relinquish this all too seducing joystick. Well not after having read some articles about it.

It dawned to me that I must do a second job, maybe a third one in order to have enough money to buy what I longed for. Thus, before I could become a my own sex and bondage slave, I would be a money slave. Somehow I smiled at this idea, as sad as it was, but slave is slave. At the idea of having to earn my slavery I got wet again. I began to fantasize that I got order from my Mistress to work for my equipment. "Yes Mistress", I said to myself with low voice, "thank you Mistress". The first domination game I played with myself was, that Mistress would keep me in chastity and only would attend to my needs when I managed to buy one of the toys I was longing for. Sexual needyness is the most motivating thing a human being can be driven by. Except of curiosity.

So, during the day I was at university, hearing lectures and working assistant things for my professor. At early evening I was to do a cleaning job in an office building, and after that I had to go to a bar where I served drinks to the guests until two o'clock a.m., weekends inclusive.

You can only do such a schedule when you are young. Every week I got more tired and I started to neglect some of my duties at the university. Should I go on with this, I asked myself. "Yes you should" came a firm voice from inside my mind. It was my inside Mistress talking to me. "You have made this mistake once, I will not allow you to make it twice!". Yes Mistress, I thought. There was no way to discuss. I knew very well that I would regret it if I would stop now. I could certainly miss a semester at the university because I was in good time. But I certainly would not discard my sexual needs just for getting some more sleep. Never ever!

The bad thing about my schedule was that I, despite feeling the very effects of chastity, was in no mood to experiment with rope bondage. The good thing about it was, that, after two month of literal slaving and sparing every penny as good as I could, I had enough money to buy some item from my wishing list. And I could not decide which one. I certainly would have opted for the Hitachi, but, as I had found out, it was then forbidden in the European Union, because of some metals inside that were regarded as dangerous for health. Fuck the EU I thought. And fuck the Euro. After the Euro had been introduced, my apartment rent began to rise, slowly but steadily. This, of course, sent me into more pressure for more money for my living and, much worse, to buy for my wishing list.

Thus, no Hitachi for the time being. What should I buy instead?

To solve this serious problem I wrote me a little program that would randomly chose one of the items I badly wanted to have. I would accept this choice as if being ordered by my Mistress. The program told me to buy a muzzle gag, 120 Euros. Expensive, but good quality. The muzzle gag is still my favorite one, unbelievably effective. I ordered the muzzle gag and, when it arrived, I called in sick on all of my three jobs and slept out long into the afternoon. Then I got to play.

I pretended that Mistress has ordered me to orgasm three time in a series, my legs frogtied, wearing high heels, wearing a rope harness on my upper body and my hands bound in front of me. And the gag of course, bound as tight as possible. I was also ordered to apply clothespins on my nipples, which I was not really sure about if I would like them. But being a slave is about following orders, and these orders were now to be given by my inside fantasy Mistress.

The rope harness turned out to be a serious problem, because I had never done it before. Of course, I had downloaded instructions with some pictures, but a rope harness is not just tying your ankles together, it is art. It took me some increasingly frustrating hours to manage the rope harness. If I was to play seriously - and I wanted to play seriously - then without the rope harness, I would not be allowed to continue.

For the rope-harness I had chosen slim black ropes that beautifully matched with my blonde dyed and shoulder-length hair. As my hair is naturally smooth without any curls, I had bound it together in a ponytail in order not to disturb my preparations. The rope harness Mistress had chosen for me began at my waist, encircling it two times to get halt. The first rope then started to move around my upper body in a criss-cross scheme in order to be the framework for the second rope. When I moved the rope around my breasts I got the impression that not only my nipples, but my whole breasts would be erect. The first rope was to be tied in a bra scheme around my shoulders and breasts, with knots at special places in order to keep halt, and, finally, to be knotted at the height of my shoulder blades on my back. I am lucky that my arms are very flexible, but I lost grip of the rope two times and had to start over again.

When the rope was finally knotted I sighed and began to work on the second rope. The second rope, also starting at my waist, was to be guided in axial symmetry to the first rope, criss-crossing the first rope in reverse direction above and below at the right places, and, with little pulls, a fish-net pattern began to evolve around my naked body. Around my breasts, the second rope also went like the bra scheme of the first rope, however in reverse direction in order to stabilize and support the halt. Finally it was to be tied behind my neck, which was easy compared with the shoulder blades. Again I sighed and thought that Mistress should chose something more easy to tie as long as I would be a bloody starter in rope-art. After finishing I admired myself in the mirror, turning from one side to the other. It was fantastic. My whole upper body was encircled in a black fishnet pattern that made me look even slimmer then I was. My breasts but looked more accentuated as they are in reality. I have only B-cups. I simply looked awesome with no words really matching the feelings I had.

Next came the heels. As I usually wore flat shoes in those years - and I was suddenly sure that Mistress was about to change this forever - I had one pair of ordinary black street heels which I had only worn once, or perhaps never. I could not remember. I had measured the height of the heels and found seven centimetres only. This would do for now, but in the future, as Mistress told me in my fantasy, no less than ten centimetres would be appropriate for a slavegirl. A slave should always look sexy for her Mistress, and for herself, of course.

With the heels on I went back to the mirror and was stunned by my sight. The effect of the heels was so overwhelming that my hands automatically started to move around my body to check if things really are as shown by the mirror. My breasts were even more accentuated because of the breast-out-shoulders-back effect heels create, while my waste appeared to be even slimmer. Together with my fish-net rope-harness this made me look as I could right go for the catwalk. The effect on my legs was without words. When seven centimetres of heels could do magic on my body, what then could do ten or thirteen centimetres.

I freed my hair from the ponytail, swirled it around a little to unfold around my head and shoulders and looked at me again. With my hair floating freely around me I looked even more sexy. "Beautiful slavegirl", I whispered to myself with little tears of gratitude in my eyes. And I felt the impulse to get down on my knees, pretending to thank my Mistress for allowing her girl to become such a beautiful toy. Being on my knees and bowing down my head felt so good.

After I got up again I noticed that I was already dripping wet between my legs and I knew that I should hurry now. The need to touch me became very strong. I went for the gag and, back in front of the mirror, I put it on. The pink ball went in behind my teeth and I realized that I should have taken a smaller ball. Inexperienced as I was, I had chosen four and a half centimetres in diameter, which turned out to be somewhat large for my jaws. But there was no way back now and I forced the ball in deeper and pulled the main leather bands above and around my head as tight as possible behind the back of my head. Surprisingly, the tighter the bands were pulled, the more comfortable the ball felt in my mouth. The leather muzzle plate pressed against my lips like a relentless kiss and the ball would not move more than one or two millimetres. Next I fixed the bands below my lower jaw back behind my neck and again pulled the bands as tight a possible, too.

With the gag in place I tried to articulate some words but out came only some unintelligible mumbling. It felt so good. Next I tried to shout out as loud as I possibly could and I found out that this gag really was able to dim down the voice. Shouting loud was no option anymore, as only some grunting came out of my mouth. The use of my tongue was taken away from me. My already high sexual excitation immediately escalated to new heights. Was there a gag that could render the slave completely mute I asked myself and made a note to my inside Mistress for some research.

Back to the mirror. Blonde hair floating around my head, encircled by firm leather bands that inevitably kept a ballgag in my mouth like a large and relentless kiss. My body, encircled with a black fish-net pattern, making me slimmer and my breasts larger. My legs, thanks to the heels, longer and more well-toned as ever before. I could not help but putting my hands behind my back, pretending to be bound, and turned around to see every little piece of my body from each sight in it's overwhelming sexiness. That was me. I still could not really believe it.

I really had to hurry now, because I already felt edgy and I was not allowed to cum before my bondage was done. I put on the clothespins, not even feeling the pain that must have run through my nipples, then I laid down on my bed and frogtied my legs as fast as I possibly could. Cuffing my hands in front of me almost sent me over the edge. But luckily ever so close to the very edge I came to halt and could luxuriate in this irritating, mindblowing feeling of absolute and unforgiving needyness. I wiggled around in my bonds and found that I had done a good job so far. My legs were tightly frogtied and not of much use. My hands, however, had far to much freedom for my taste.

Pleadingly I waited for my Mistress to allow me to cum. I needed this orgasm so badly that, given a real Mistress would have walked in and grant me an orgasm in return for signing a lifelong slave contract, I would not have wasted a second to sign in if only I could have this orgasm. Funny isn't it, what sex can do to one's mind.

Tormented by being so close to the edge my brain began to dissolve into bubbles, floating around me and I feared to pass out from sheer lust, when my Mistress finally gave me permission to cum. To extend this mindblowing state even more I started to tease my breasts and by accident ripped off a clothespin from one of my nipples. The feeling of pain combined with the sudden backrush of blood was enough to rocket me up into heavy waves of contractions that radiated through my body and a tsunami of an orgasm as I had never ever felt it before literally assaulted my body and my mind, washing over me again, again and again and I felt like drowning in this infinite ocean of bliss. The french know well why they call it the petit mort.

When the waves finally began to subside I had totally lost any track of time and I could not say if this was only a few seconds, one minute or more than one minute. For me it felt like an hour in a second, or a second in an hour. Complete relativity, as I just had traveled with the speed of light. I was floating in the afterglow like a burned out star that just had exploded into a nebula of gas.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down, but even the afterglow still sent little waves of the slowly subsiding orgasm through my body, giving me the idea that it probably would never end. Realizing this possibility I did not try to calm down anymore, I just lay there, I relished, I eventually fell asleep.

As I woke up again it was dark outside and inside my bedroom. Actually my bedroom was utterly black because I had closed the curtains. I lay on my right side, my legs aching from the frogtie, my mouth aching from the gag, my arms and hands aching as they rested between my legs and my harness biting softly into my flesh. I could not see it, but I felt that the handcuffs had tightened while I was asleep. Dizzy and still totally spent I tried to twist onto my back, but this was easier said than done. I managed it finally, but this sent even more stress into my tortured legs.

As I began to fumble with the knots of the frogtie my inside Mistress asked what I would think I was doing. Yes, I remembered. The game was that I must have three orgasms in a series. And I wanted to play seriously, because else it is no play. "Mistress, please have mercy" I muffled into my gag, but only some mmmmppphhhh's came out. No answer from me-Mistress. Of course I knew that I was right to have no mercy.

However, this was the other side of being a slave, the real side. It is so easy to tie yourself up when your mind and body are vibrating with lust, it is so easy to get this desperately needed orgasm. But after that all, you just want out. But bondage only begins when you want out but can't. And slavery only begins when you follow orders, if you like it or not, but just to please your Mistress and be an obedient pet. Thus it seemed that this would be my first lesson in being a slave. And certainly I wanted to be a good slave, but I thought that I could not stand it. And I definitely did not like it. I was just mad about getting out, but I knew that this would be wrong. It would ruin everything that had begun so fantastically some hours ago. Gosh, what have I got myself into? The hardest thing for a single player like me is to be Mistress and slavegirl at the same time - in situations like the present one.

I managed to get on my knees to release some stress in my upper legs, now kneeling on my bed, the sheets wet from sweat and my juices. I like to call them my voluptuous springs. The smell of my now dried springs combined with the scent of the sweat was strangely working on my nose. "Do I like this", I asked myself quietly. "Probably yes", came the answer.

"Okay", I said to myself, "you wanted this, you have fantasized about this for an eternity. You have it now, so live it or leave it. There is no in between. Never"!

This was right and I knew it. I sighed as loud as my relentless gag would allow it and started to breath slowly and steadily to calm me down. And I tried to think back to what had happened to me just a few hours ago. This had been crazy, this had been mad, this had been overwhelming and completely unbelievable. I touched my pussy and instantly drew my hand back. It was still throbbing, hyper-sensitive. I could not hold on to giggle behind my gag. At least I now knew that I could cum just by just teasing my nipples. If this was no good news I did not know what good news would possibly be.

I touched my nipples and found that the other clothespin was still in place. I shook my head in astonishment. I did feel nothing in this nipple, I had to take it off. Now! At this thought I began to shiver. I moved my cuffed hands towards the clamp, but I drew back once, twice, and a third time. I was anticipating the pain, but I had no choice. I desperately needed an order from my me-Mistress, but I was not strong enough to be my me-Mistress now. Then, suddenly, driven by sheer willpower, I moved my cuffed hands on the clamp and ripped it off in one second. The pain that shocked me in an instant was completely unbelievable. I cried out as loud as my gag would allow it, I bent down on my legs to ease the pain, unintentionally touching my nipples with my upper legs, causing jolts which sent me back straight upright, moaning even louder. As my eyes filled with tears I just let go, I fell on my side and started to cry.

After what seemed like an eternity the pain slowly had melted down and I began to wipe my tears off my face. I started to hear this stubborn little girl inside my head that was just about to muse about this damned bondage thing I always got myself into trouble with, when I realized that I was getting wet again. The fucking little girl was quiet in an instant and I got onto my knees.

This now felt really strange. I was wet again, but why? Did I really like the pain that I had undergone some minutes ago, did I? Did I enjoy the complete and inescapable helplessness of this situation. Did I? As there was no other explanation I concluded a firm "Yes". Maybe not the pain as pain itself, but definitely the helplessness, which I had to surrender to, with no way around.

"Lesson number one learned", I thought to myself. I did not only fantasize about being dominated and to be at someone's mercy. I really was into this. Somehow I felt proud about this perception. This proudness also led me back to my composure - I had two orgasms ahead of me. All the aching from my body suddenly seemed to be the same as the pain from my nipples, it all belonged to the game I wanted to play, with not the slightest way of escape. And I was wet again.

I started to touch my throbbing honeycomb carefully. I wanted to draw back, the feelings were unbelievable, but I had to go, and I had to go twice, and I was wet. I kept touching, encircling, petting, loudly moaning into my gag from this incredible mixture of excitement and unbearable sensitivity. When I came close to my clit I felt jolts running though my body, I was bending back and forward to ease the feelings, but I kept touching, massaging, rubbing. When I finally touched my clit I thought that I would faint, but I kept touching, my eyes watering again. At least I could imagine my Mistress at the other side of the room, a riding crop softly swinging in her hands, her eyes on me, smiling and lovingly knowing that she demanded a lot from her young trainee. And patiently she was waiting for her girl to do as ordered.

As I began to fantasize about the reward I would earn, the unbearable sensitivity began to turn, ever so slowly, over into arousal. And I kept touching, touching, caressing, petting, even carefully whipping my pussy with one of my palms as I noticed that my left hand had automatically moved to one of my nipples, not THE ONE, the other one, teasing and twitching, giving it the same treatment as I gave to my clit. I shortly smiled behind my gag, but I soon was carried away again into a thoughtless bliss, that only was filled with my growing arousal and the mechanics of my hands that somehow seemed to be remote-controlled, out of my reach, out of my mind. It was like somebody else would tease me right towards my second orgasm. When I felt it building my remote-controlled hands enhanced their pace automatically. And I was building, building and building and all of a sudden I came hard, shaking frantically in my bonds.

This orgasm felt different from the first one, very different. My first orgasm was badly needed due to my pre-arousal. I wanted it, I got it by giving me into this play without any second thought. And overwhelming it was. The second orgasm but was forced, at least somehow. It went along with pain, with hyper-sensitivity, with this strange but attractive mixture of inescapable helplessness and the arousal that could built upon this grounds. I experienced this mixture for the very first time. I cannot even describe this orgasm as it seemed to roll over me as remote-controlled as my hands were, I just was there, just feeling, diving deep, snapping for air, getting my lungs filled with my voluptuous waters that were all around me, earthquaking, near to pass out.

But I did not pass out. For a bunch of some seconds I was diving up from bliss and found that my hands were still working on my pussy and the other nipple, remote-controlled as they had been before. It was unbelievable.

Other than the cock, which needs a relaxation time after cumming, the clit is more friendly to her user. It resets to zero immediately after an orgasm, at least from a functional point of view. This is why a forced orgasm torture with the Hitachi is so effective on women, so seductive - and so inescapable. There is simply no choice for not cumming. Sorry for the guys, but there will never ever be equality between men and women.

As I now had surrendered completely, with my hands still working their magic on my again hyper-sensitive spots, I felt my third orgasm building. It came fast and hit right into the afterglow of my second one. And I kept touching as being in a maelstrom.

I could not stop willingly, I did not want to stop, I had no choice to stop and I certainly had no right to stop. I went on until a very distant voice penetrated into my subspace, ordering me to stop. And I stopped.

The voice in my head came closer, ordering me to lose my bonds.

I obeyed without hesitation. I really do not know how I did it, but I could loosen my bonds fast and effectively. I only kept on my rope-harness. As I was free and tried to stand up I felt every muscle screaming but I did not care. As my me-Mistress was back, also somehow remote-controlled, she ordered me to kneel and thank her, which I did immediately. Despite trembling heavily I could do this in the appropriate way, kneeling on my lower legs and bowing down deep. When I got up again, I became completely blank. With some last steps I made it to my bed and fell asleep instantly.

I woke up in the late afternoon of the next day, still completely spent. At first I was puzzled where I probably would be, but soon I recognized my bedroom. This room was somehow stinking with that mixture of sweat, my voluptuous springs, dried wetness and probably some other things I did not know and did not want to. I got up for a coffee and a cigarette. I slipped into my kitchen, made me a coffee and smoked my cigarette, and another one, and another one. God was I spent.

Somehow I did not believe that this night I seemingly had experienced was real. Perhaps I only had one of these very intensive wet dreams that sometimes can assault a sleeper. The marks on my wrists told me to be the wiser. Okay, I thought, let's get this straight.

But before I could start the aftermath my bowl grumbled and I noticed that I was hungry as hell. I went to the refrigerator only to notice that it was empty. "Shit", I muttered. Thus, I took a fast shower, not caring about my hair, which I tied up into a ponytail. The warm water felt good, but I also noticed how sensitive and sore I still was. When I was about to put on a bra I immediately chickened out. I could not wear a bra on these nipples, at least not a B-cup. Angrily, but not without a smile, I tossed the bra aside and slipped into a worn out top. Still not a good idea as I soon found out. But I had no choice in this. I put on the next trousers I could find, my flat-heeled boots - and sunglasses. A look in the mirror had advised me to do so. The last thing I wanted was to be recognized by somebody who knew me. I looked as I would have been raped. Well I thought, this is not to far away, isn't it. Only that I had been raped by myself. Finally I put on a thick winter coat, a large cap drawn deep into my face to further make me anonymous, and left for food.

Every step I took but reminded me of my nipples, that relentlessly rubbed against the texture of my top. As this soon became unbearable, I headed to a small second-hand shop several streets in the reverse direction. I was lucky to find a D-cup push-up bra. I headed home again to put this bra on. What a relief that was. The top now was not really fitting anymore, but I had other problems to solve. Again I left for food.

I went to a grocery a whole bunch of streets away from my apartment only to be sure that nobody would know me there. I bought some frozen pizzas, a bottle of red wine, a new pack of cigarettes and hurried back home again. I soon found me wolfing down the first pizza and sipping down my first glass of wine. By going into the aftermath I found that I truly had every reason to be proud of myself. This slave has earned her reward. However, I also recognized that I had been in real and utter danger while I had drifted in subspace. I had read about this phenomenon, and this was nothing to do jokes about. Only my apparently strong mind had probably saved me from worse. I had to find ways to control this. Me-Mistress should be more indulgently in the future, as long as I felt to be a bloody trainee.

About the orgasms that I remembered, I was not sure that I really should have experienced them. The first one, okay. I also remembered my struggling against the need to chicken out and the contradictory feelings between pain and pleasure. I tried to evoke the events that I had experienced in subspace, but this remained somewhat foggy. I only knew that I had been there, that I obviously should have had my strongest orgasms ever, and that I got away without harming myself. In the end it took me some weeks to figure out what had happened to me.

It literally took me the next two days to fully recover from my first real bondage adventure. In the course of the next weeks I spent no thought on tying me up. I did not even masturbate, as I was still in a state of a calm and comforting peace.

The only thing I did was to buy my reward, a pair of black patent leather lockable high heels, the heel thirteen centimetres of height. I would wear them at home instead of running around in socks. I wanted to get used to this feeling.

5. How to become seduced without even knowing

As time went by my slaving for goodies became more and more successful. I did not care much about being kept in chastity while slaving. I somewhat seemed to be done with forced orgasms for a while. Me-Mistress only invented scenarios that gave me a slack of more freedom and avoided too much demand on her trainee. I was mostly practicing rope bondage in several positions, learning the knots and especially learning to get out again, without a knife. Planning the escape is half the way to a sane and safe self-bondage scenario. Never ever again I wanted to be in this clothesline-situation far back in my girlhood.

At university I was successful with my final examinations, my diploma thesis got the second-best grade and I was about to begin my doctoral thesis with the professor I had chosen for my assistant job. Actually he had chosen me, but what about. I would work on quantum gravity, a subject that presently is, and certainly will be for decades to come, at the very border of mankind's knowledge about the universe. And it is clear by no means if it finally would work out well. Adventurous as I naturally am, I took on the challenge. By beginning my PhD, I got a half position at the university, such that my financial situation relaxed from one day to the other. With twelve-hundred Euros at my own disposal, my first real money, I could pay all for myself. After my rent and my basic monthly costs I would be left with a fabulous 550 Euros to spent. Dresden was still a cheap town.

As girls do when they have money to spent, this girl went shopping. Besides spending for my goodies, I ultimately could buy some other girls stuff to give me a better and much more woman-like look. I was done with worn out jeans and sloppy tops.

Me-Mistress had decided that, from now on, I would only wear above-knee skirts. I would only wear tights or bare legs. Also, I would only wear heels, at least ten centimetres of height. And no boots, only shoes. As boots are a man's clothing since thousands of years it is absolutely ridiculous that today women wear boots and men do not. A well dressed women shall never wear boots - except in sessions, of course. Furthermore, I was commanded to buy my clothes as tight as possible in order to force me into good shape. For my underwear I was ordered to wear push-up bras exclusively and for panties, always matching with the bra of course, sweet little nothings that hardly could hold a panty liner when I had my days. I felt exposed under my skirt.

With this clothing order, it was clear as glass that I would attract very much attention from my fellow PhD students and from the undergraduates I had the dubitable honor to educate in the exercises that supported the lectures. A woman in a physics department is already somewhat a solitaire. A well-kempt women is a solitary solitaire. A really good-looking and well-kempt woman is a singularity and a good-looking, well-kempt and well-dressed women with shoulder-long blonde hair, wearing above-knee skirts, high heels, along with tight tops or blouses is something like the Big Bang. But this was exactly what me-Mistress had in store for me. Me-Mistress wanted me to get used to show off. However, this woman that went on the university's catwalk was far to attractive, far to high placed that anybody would have dared to, let's say, prosecute her. I was an eye-catcher and thus completely safe. And I liked it more from day to day.

If the kind reader now thinks that all this was a little overdone than he is completely right. But as I am my me-Mistress I just ordered me what I wanted anyway, to dress up how a woman should look like. If this is somewhat old-fashioned today, then let it be. But I knew one thing absolutely for sure: I am the flower, and I never would be the bee. As a sub I wanted to be taken, not to take. I am, and I always would be, the deer, not the hunter. And the flower, the deer or a sub should look tasteful and attractive. There should be a promise. Being well and womanly dressed is thus a basic requirement for a slavegirl.

Moreover, I should get used to show off, because I planned to try out some online dating sites tailor-made for BDSM. As I had lived a secluded life most of the time, it would be necessary to show off and give the best possible impression. My abilities to smalltalk were, let's say, a little underdeveloped, such that I should act by other means. I was the flower, not the bee. I was the prey, not the predator. And I loved it.

It soon turned out that my task was not quite an easy one.

First, there were more slaves out there than Masters or Mistresses.

Second, only a fraction of the possible Mistresses would accept a lesbian sub. For the men, it was quite the other way around. The queer ones had a living market, as to say, while the straight ones were starving. Thus, no equality between men and women again. This time but against me.

Dominant couples would have been easier to find, but serving a man was a no go for me. I wanted a single Mistress, and I wanted her all for myself. And I wanted me to be her ever single property.

At some time I indeed thought about to become a Mistress, as I had some experience in dominating myself. I knew about the possible mistakes in early training and certainly would not make them again. A second thought but rendered this idea as completely ridiculous. What a Mistress that in the end would order her slave to tie her up and use her.

I also thought about switching. However, my need to be kept and dominated was too high already to endure such a relationship. In the end, and I knew it, switching would turn out into equal lovers in the long run, and this was definitely not what I was seeking for. Equal in normal life, yes, equal behind closed doors, never! Maybe switching would be some last resort, if everything else would turn out to be wrong.

Another and serious hindrance was my definite refuse to post a picture of me, as a lot of people would refuse any contact without a picture on the other end of the line. In no way I would publicly unveil my identity. Grown up without the net, my anonymity was precious to me. And with a position at the university, I thought that this would not be wise in terms of my further career. I knew what Google could do if somebody wants to snoop you. I had done it often enough to find out a little more about my chat-contacts before meeting. And I always was surprised how easy it was to find out the real name, if not posted anyway, to find out were the possible Mistress was working, about her family and her friends, her life-style beyond BDSM. Thus, this little but omnipresent link to Facebook and similar sites could easily evolve into an atomic bomb, if used with intention. By snooping, I discarded some rather promising contacts before our planned date without any further explanation.

"Was I to become a snob", I asked myself. Or did I not search for real? Or was I, in the end, more than content with my seclusion? Riddle on riddle, and no solution in sight.

I finally gave up snooping and just went to dates, hoping that the first impression would be not a dummy one.

But indeed I was just shy. A shy little deer that has had her last real relationship at the age of sixteen - sixteen years ago. And I feared nothing more than to get hurt again. I thought it would be unbearable to stand. And I also learned about that my womanly and attractive outfit was not only meant to attract the predators, it was also a shield to me, behind which this still under-confident girl could hide.

A lot of dates, as it was to be foreseen, turned out into nothing but wasted time. Sometimes we did not match right on from the beginning, when our talk was suddenly completely different from our chatting.

Sometimes the possible Mistress went into domination mode right on from the start, which I thought to be absolutely disgusting. I was willing to surrender. Oh yes I was. But I also had this idea that such a relationship needed nothing more than trust, and trust could only evolve slowly and over time. And I was crystal clear about that my Mistress, if I should give me to her, becoming her property, should earn the right to take all my rights away from me. As the slave should show obedience and willingness to be trained, the Mistress should show the same in her domain, responsibility, demanding but absolutely caring attention. In these points, even a BDSM relation is built upon even terms. So far I only knew one Mistress that would fit into this scheme - me.

On this very date our fantasies did not match. And there was no way to be found to approach each other by training me to. Quite surprisingly, this was also the best of all my good dates, because each of us talked absolutely frankly and without hiding behind a facade. She definitely got me while she unveiled to me that her history concerning BDSM was similar to my own one. In early puberty she also was hit right on the spot. Such things can be a strong bond. We agreed to meet again on a friends base and exchanged our phone numbers. As we moreover found out that we were living close by each other, she instantly offered me, and I got blushing red while she talked about it, to be a back-up for my self-bondage scenarios. As I hesitantly agreed she sat back and a large and open smile formed on her face.

"Don't worry", she said, " when I find you someday I will not take advantage. Not as long as you don't want to."

We walked home together, keeping up talking, and I sadly felt so secure in her presence, so comforted and so trustful that I could not help but start out to cry. The shy little deer was deadly wounded, but the hunter would leave her alone to go elsewhere. She immediately realized the situation I was in and took me into her arms. I buried my face on her shoulder and let go. After she had softly caressed my head, letting me weep out all my frustration, she grabbed my shoulders and held me in front of her. Oh what was she a perfect Mistress.

"I know what you are thinking little-one. Maybe because I feel somehow the same for you. However, I seem to be much stronger than you are. Maybe because I am the Mistress".

I simply nodded, my eyes down on the pavement. She took my chin to hold my head up so I would have to match her eyes.

"That would not work little-one. You are completely BD, I am completely SM. It would not work!"

She pronounced every single word of this last sentence with a firm voice, however with a little tremolo behind her Mistress mode. "Not that I do not use bondage, but for a completely different goal. I like to create pain and I like to create fear and I like to degrade. You are a bondagee and, what I have learned about you while we were talking, you are a living sex-toy, an orgasm-slut. The orgasms I create for my subs and myself are different. They spring from a distant source. If I would do that to you I would hurt you for real. It literally would be a crime. I am sure that you would make a perfect slave, but not for my play."

She took me in her arms again I nodded my head against her so strong shoulder, knowing that she was right. Why always me I thought, why was she so perfect? My arms were just hanging down lifeless beside my body. I did not dare to put them around her. I would never let her lose again. I was in love. Now there I was, hurt again.

She softly took me away from her shoulder and held me in front of her. "Okay?" she asked and I nodded. But both we knew that nothing was near to okay.

I desperately needed a cigarette now. She also took one of mine and we started to walk again. We tried to resume talking to each other, but a calm silence dwelt between the two of us.

When you are with somebody in silence and the silence is neither awkward nor unpleasant, you know that this somebody is the right one. Why always me?

Despite my apartment was more far than her's she brought me home before she returned back to her own place.

"Let us be friends little-one. I think you really need a friend whom you can talk to. Far too long you have been a loner." Again she was right and I nodded.

"Friends", I brought out, my voice trembling from despair. She hugged me for farewell, turned round and went in her direction. She did not look back.

I was so sure that she would be in tears now, too. Back in my apartment I immediately went into the kitchen were I had a bottle of ruby red port-wine. I had planned to use it for one of my excellent sauces on Sunday. Ironically I was about to make a deer loin. At the thought of me being the deer I started to cry again, but I wiped my tears away and tried to get angry. Without even fetching a glass, I went back to my living room, let me fall down into my easy chair, tossed my heels away and began to drink right out of the bottle, smoking one cigarette after another. The port soon was taking its toll on me, but I was bound to empty the whole bottle. I needed it. Soon after sipping out the last little drop of comfort I sank down into a completely dreamless sleep.

The next morning I woke up late and with a formidable headache. Thanks to the port I was indeed grateful for this headache, because it would put my attention elsewhere. Body-aches always are a good tool to ease soul-aches.

The first result of my acquaintance with her was that I stopped chatting and dating immediately. "No woman no cry" I said to myself.

Besides working on my PhD, which made only less than acceptable progress - it is a hard subject involving calculations that no layman would ever think of to exist or to be possible at all - I resumed my rope bondage training which I had lumped while I was dating, in order to keep me motivated. I have become really good with rope bondage. I knew all the good knots that would not tighten more than wished, even with extreme struggling, and I also knew to tie some of my me-Mistresses favorite rope-harnesses by heart. I even had found out how I possibly could tie my elbows tight behind my back, but somehow I did not dare to really use this trick for scenarios. If I got stuck in this, I would be finished.

A part of the knowledge of how to tie me up with a possibility to free myself again is to know how to do the escape. I certainly was no Houdini. However, my rope bondage became increasingly daring as things naturally do evolve to more and more heights. Ties that were hot some month ago would not serve anymore to fully heat me up today. In self-bondage it is never possible to tie all the ropes as they are shown by the inspiring picture. For a selfbondagee, this can be a serious, and dangerous problem. Consequently, I began to experiment with padlocked leather cuffs that would not give in anytime before my chosen sentence was over. I would tie these cuffs to my rope-harness or to my feet, if I wanted to hogtie me. However, with the key available again after some given period of time, these cuff would be much more secure as any well designed rope bondage would be.

The best thing, however, was the release system I had found. As it is always the best to rely on nature, I took the ice release as my method of choice. A key tied to a string in a bottle of water or whatever bin would be available that would be frozen in the fridge. But what about the timing? How long would a fully frozen liter, e.g., take to melt and free the key on the string? As I had read a vast bunch of stories by now, the bondagees in these stories, fiction or not, always made their layman experiments on melting without any trustworthy statistics. And some of them even trusted their eye-measure and a feeling that clearly came from between their legs and not from their mind. Nearly all of them reported that they had been in for a bad surprise. Otherwise, if non-fiction, they must have lied about this fact. It is frustrating to be kept in bondage longer than wished, but this is part of the game. However, it is sheer torture to get free earlier than planned, and probably unfinished. Only a very cruel Mistress would do something like that. And I was not a cruel Mistress to myself. I surely could do better.

If I new the temperature of the fridge, the mass of the water to be frozen and the surface-measure of the bottle with the frozen water in it, I could use the Stefan-Boltzmann law of radiation to exactly calculate the time a certain amount of ice would take to melt into water at room temperature. All the data I needed was easily available. I too did some experiments, and each confirmed my previously calculated results. That is why I became a physicist. You are in full control. And because I did my calculations in my me-Mistress mode I should be in full control. So far, so good. However, I felt that something was missing. More often than before I began to remember this first real and completely crazy bondage adventure I had carried out some years ago and where I surely had earned my spurs as a slave. In the past years I always found that this experience was far too extreme and even scary, especially for the bloody newbie I then was. And utterly dangerous from a psychological point of view. I very well understood that this event certainly was due to my overheated fantasy, that broke free after years of deprivation and denial. I had a head start, but then I fell back into normal pace. BDSM is a slow path to go, because you need to adjust your mind from step to step. And only when you are absolutely sure to step ahead, then you should step. Especially while playing alone.

Me and me-Mistress had come to consent that it was not yet time to force me into anything like this again, so we played plain-vanilla rope bondage. It was fine for the time being and served me with a lot of experience. But as it started to grow into more daring scenarios, where struggling free got harder and harder, however in a well calculated sense, I began to miss to be forced. I felt that is was about time.

Before my first casual date with her I had read some of the SM stories on Gromet's page and GaggedUtopia. Such stories had never attracted me after my first look into them, but now I read carefully and I really got scared by imagining me in the told situations as the slave. This was truly not my bottle of wine. I now could understand much better what she was talking about. We were bound to meet at her place on Friday evening, because she wanted to show me some goodies I might be interested in, if I not already had them.

She greeted me with a hug which I only responded reluctantly to. The wound was all to fresh and still biting down into my flesh. We went into her living room, sat down with a good bottle of red wine, smoking cigarettes and chatting about this and that until I started to talk about my newly gained knowledge about wanting to be forced. Also I talked about my worries of getting bored while being bound for several hours, waiting for the ice to melt down. Self-bondage is really fun in the short run, when you are worked up, dripping wet between your legs, the head cloudy from voluptuousness and while you struggle to get yourself off. And if you are very worked up or ordered to, you can get yourself off a second time with even more struggling. And if you also are an obedient and well-trained slave you certainly will luxuriate in your bonds and manage to stay your time as commanded, until you are allowed to free yourself. But I told her that I wanted more, and I told her that I had tried everything, from vibrating eggs to Benwaballs to vibrating dildos, which I certainly disliked. Somehow I was not into penetration. And anywhere, the effects on me were only poor. Perhaps my pussy, from extensive use (I was giggling inside me while I spoke this out loud), was not sensible anymore to low-threshold stimulation The best choice to me would be the Benwaballs, because they react on struggling.

"Hm", she said, acknowledging the seriousness of my problem. "Maybe I can help you dear".

She stood up, left the room and soon came back with a thing that undoubtedly looked like "a Hitachi Magic Wand", she completed my thought.

I was stunned. My eyes literally dripped out of their holes as I looked on this joystick that I had completely forgotten about.

"Where did you get this from" I asked, "did you smuggle it?"

"Don't be silly little-one", she said with a broad grin. "I ordered it from Amazon."

Besides I liked how she kept talking to me like talking to her pet, it dawned to me that somehow the Eurocrats in Brussels, by heavenly inspiration, or just by an error in administration, must have decided that this one metal in the Hitachi was suddenly not unhealthy anymore. And me the donkey did not notice it!

"The last thing I know about this joystick was that it is forbidden in Euroland", I said to defend myself.

"All true my little silly-one, but you better should keep up with the news! And it was in the news, my dear. The worlds best massager is back to Europe, that was the news - in some elder peoples health magazines. Do they even think about what this really is?" She grinned again, looking straight into my eyes, and I could see the shade of a predatory glitter in her eyes.

"So you read health magazines for elder people", I asked, still to puzzled for giving a better response.

"Not by free will sleepyhead" she replied, petting me again, "but I have to edit one."

So she was by accident sitting right at the source while the rest of us could stare holes into the air while playing with all this crap they called vibes.

"How much", I asked.

"150 Euros", she said, "but I would buy it for 1500 Euros if this was the price."

She took it by it's cord and let it swing like a pendulum in front of my eyes, waiting for every movement, every face I would make. The predator again, I thought. The pendulum swung back and forth, me speechlessly staring at it.

"Already hypnotized", she asked me to break the silence, "or tantalized?", she concluded with a grin.

I knew that I certainly could not wait until Monday.

"May I", I began to stutter, "I mean may I", ..., "may I ttttry it, pplease?" and it was out. "I have waited so long for this that I cannot stand it until Monday and the arrival of the parcel service, and this only in the case I would order it right now. Please Mistr...", I said, gulping down the last word as best as I could.

She put the Joystick down on the table, looked at me and her face became very soft and sympathetic. "Again sweetie, I am a Mistress, but I am not your Mistress. If you feel irritated about me petting you I can stop this immediately. But please understand this as a form of respect from a Mistress to a slave that I would be proud of to call my very own pet if only we would match. Is that clear by now?"

I gulped again, and with all the power I had in me I tried the best that I could not to call her Mistress again.

"Yes.., it is clear. Aaand I llike you petting me", I finished with a surprisingly controlled voice. I drank down my whole glass of wine and lit me a new cigarette.

"So do you have a slave by now" I asked her, desperately trying to get back into talk, but distracted as I was it only then came to me where we had met two weeks ago.

A broad smile formed on her face. "I think you should give the answer to yourself, stupid-one." And after a little time she said, again very softly, "calm down, nothing has happened, all is good."

How she could read me like an open book. Truly a predator I thought. What a waste.

I sighed and began. "Look" I said, "I am sorry for this. But, as we promised us that we would talk honestly, you know that I play Domme and sub all on my own, all at the same time. I have to stay in control and I want to give up control and let me fall down. How can I ever go on with this for real. I am so tired about keeping control and I am so tired about that I, all the time, exactly know what is going to happen. I really think I cannot go on with this. I am exhausted and I so desperately want to be weak and sheltered. With the one Mistress behind me all this would be easier. This very one Mistress could walk me naked on the streets and I still would feel secure and comfortable in her presence. Do you understand my confused state, do you understand why I so desperately want to call you... that title. I feel secure in your presence." I finished my speech, lit up a new cigarette and hastily sipped down some of my wine.

She looked at me. First she seemed to be astound about my sudden frankness, but then she nodded and also needed her sip of wine.

"I do understand you very well my dear", She began. "First of all, I think that you are one of the strongest woman I have ever met. You play your games in earnest and you are capable of playing two roles at the same time. You may very well and with all right in the world feel exhausted by now, but your strength will certainly come back when you take a rest. Maybe you should go on holidays. What you have told me about this strange first adventure is exceptional. Your inside me-Mistress, so you, yourself or whatever, was able to call you back from subspace, while this could have become really dangerous. As a rule a Domme must never ever leave a sub alone that

is drifting in subspace. And as for you pet, I envy you, I really do. It's not only because of your strength or your obvious brains. I envy your possibility to play your games all with yourself. I could not do this. Whipping myself is completely out of question. It's not because of the pain, I know very well how that can feel and what it can cause, both arousal and fear, but this is nothing that I could experience as a Domme on my own. A sub can whip herself, but a Domme can't. Do you virtually know of how lucky you are? The sub always holds the better position!"

"I never have seen it from this point of view", I managed to say.

"True", she resumed, "it is not easy to find the right sub or the right Domme, if ever, but this is the same as for all the plain-vanillas out there. True, they outnumber us, but this is no guarantee. And do you have any idea of how this game is played form the Domme's point of view. Except your me-Mistress in there, of course", she said, pointing teasingly to my head. "We never show it, but we have a tremendous responsibility right away from the beginning of a relationship. Of course we also like the power the sub is willing to give us, but it depends all on the sub. A no is a no. Only in very well established relationships, where a really deep trust is to be found it is possible to cross the borders into new fields out of a sudden. And furthermore girl, when you have a sub and managed to educate her right to that point where it starts to get really interesting, she may tell you from now to then that she would leave, pretending some very obvious lies. A caring and responsibly acting Domme would never do this without extensively discussing such things with her sub, because you simply cannot leave a sub alone in a sudden. They are so vulnerable and lost then. No way. And I do not want to talk about all those wannabe subs that run into a Domme at such dating occasions where we have met. They come up with a wishing list and have a very good idea about what I should play with them. A sub, of course, has her fantasies and these should match with the Domme's. That is how we learned to know each other. But a sub, a real sub, is content with being on her knees in front of her Mistress, maybe trembling, maybe fearful, maybe expecting something to happen and maybe just irritated in the case that this is her first time. Every Domme does understand this. But if she does not get aroused by simply being on her knees, she is definitely no sub!" She paused to snap for air. She had talked herself into rage.

I quietly nodded my head. "Did your last sub leave you alone", I asked.

She nodded yes. "And I don't even know why. She just left, telling some lies. That works on me."

And now she was weak and it was on me to take her in my arms and comfort her. I sat down beside her on the sofa and held her, softly stroking her head.

"She has left me two years ago and I did not find a new one since then. You very well can imagine how that feels. And then I met you, but we simply do not match!" She cried out the last words and I took her head and laid it down onto my breasts to give her a sweet cushion.

Feeling her head on my breasts I realized that our facades had now been completely teared down. And, while softly stroking through her hair with my right hand, I also realized that she was right, I was the stronger one. Maybe only because I could live out my weakness, which she could not. A Domme is not weak, never. And I also could imagine what a power was needed to hide this weakness from the slave, all the time. Of course, within an even relationship, the Domme could show her weakness like real lovers do. But what if not? This felt horrible to me. I could play out any of my crazy fantasies, relief myself, sleep it all over and then I would be back to work the next day, calmed and with all the sanity my relief could possibly offer me. And what about her? I was shaking with sympathy for her, trying not to show it right now.

I felt her head moving, she turned around and looked up into my eyes. Her eyes now were just coloured with their normal dark brown, without any predatory glitter in them.

"Thank you", she said. "Would you mind to stay with me sweetie? I think we both need a friend tonight."

I agreed instantly. We raised up from the sofa, began to undress while walking towards her bedroom, followed by a trace of clothes. In her bed, we snuggled close but neither she nor me were in the mood to start anything like a sweet-talk. Both of us were too tired and exhausted from our confessions and I think we instantly fell asleep in each others arms.

As we woke up in the late Saturday's morning we still laid in each others arms. And both of us somehow seemed to feel a little uneasy, well lets say irritated about it. Without putting on some clothing we got up and took breakfast in her kitchen. As me-Mistress had set me on diet again, I could only have some coffee. As I told her about it, she was stunned.

"Wow", she gasped, " you really play your play in earnest."

I smiled and sipped on my coffee. "Well", I said, "that's what I meant yesterday evening. It is extremely demanding to me. It is like my personality is split somehow. There is the Mistress part, me, and the slave part, which is also me."

And it was really hard at the moment. At home it would have been easier, but now I sat with her, watching her as she unabashed ate her bread with jam, put sugar in her coffee, ate half smoked sausages, cheese and tomatoes. And I was sitting with my coffee, starving, and had to watch her feasting. Maybe I was mistaken, but there it was again. The glitter in her eyes.

"Well", I said, "a good breakfast you have. How can you keep your shapes if you eat like this all days?"

She smiled on me and said unceremoniously, "I don't sweetie. Usually I have a good coffee and one bread with some jam, and maybe a little tomato. If I would eat like this all day I would soon expand into a dumpling."

"Aha", I said, and something dawned to me.

"So", I began, "would it then be probably possible",and the next words I spoke out with the utmost carefulness I could have, "that you are somehow tormenting me?"

"Yes sweetie", she said. And that was all she said, glittering on me with her predatory eyes.


"Look sweetie", she began, "if you not had told me about your diet I would have had my normal breakfast. But as I am a Domme I took this little opportunity. It is fun watching you, sooo hungry - but forbidden. Not by me, remember. I was just joining sides with your me-Mistress."

I grinned, and I got an idea. I took one of the little tomatoes, put them between my lips and, ever so slowly, I closed my lips and the tomato vanished in my mouth. And my slowly chewing was obviously pleasure. For me it really was, because I was hungry as hell, in both terms.

Her glittering predatory eyes laid on me, unsure how to react. She certainly understood that I was about to play a game.

"You are a naughty little pet my dear", she answered, "what will your Mistress say if I would tell her?"

"She would certainly punish me, because my weight is important to her. However, what you don't see is what you don't know", I answered and was about to slowly grab another tomato. In elder times the tomato was also called the apple of love, maybe because it's colour. Let's see what this apple can do, I thought.

"Hm", she made, obviously unsure what to do. I helped her on the road.

"But as you obviously take sides with my Mistress", I said, playing with a second tomato, "and how could you not as you are a Mistress yourself," and putting the tomato right before my lips again, "and as my Mistress is obviously not here to punish me", licking on the tomato, "well, perhaps you could substitute her? I am sure she would agree to that", and the tomato vanished behind my lips, and I again chewed it with pleasure.

This was a game on the top of the needle, but as she had confessed to torment me with feasting right before my eyes, perhaps a little teasing from me would do. The glitter in her eyes unveiled to me that she had understood me clearly.

"So", she came out, definitely playing, "this is your game pet. How can you dare to be such a naughty little thing! First you cheat on your Mistress, and then, even more, you try to seduce another Mistress! Enough is enough!" she closed with a suddenly stern voice. Her glittering eyes narrowed and she looked at me like a cat that had found her mouse. As I was not used to such a voice I got indeed a little timid.

"This calls for two punishments pet! The first for trying to seduce me, the second for cheating your Mistress. Pet, now you are in for it! Get up and follow me, silly-one! Have you pet really thought that you could get away with this?"

I was so sure that both of us were grinning inside. I followed her, head bowed down, into her bedroom, were she ordered me to stand still and keep my head bowed down.

She let something down from the ceiling, but as I was forbidden to look up I could not see what it was. And I did not dare to look up, because two punishments seemed to be enough for this time. I also did not really know how far I could get.

"Arms up", she commanded. Instantly I took my arms up, my head still bowed to the floor.

She grabbed one of my wrists, put a leather cuff around and closed it as tight as possible. As she let lose I could not lower my arms and I new that she was tying me to a spreader bar. After she had attached my other wrist I knew it for sure. Then she pulled up the spreader bar such that I had to balance on my toes.

"Look up pet", she commanded, "look up and see what is to come for you!"

I did as ordered, seeing her opening one of the cupboards and taking out a riding crop. My eyes widened and she surely could see me getting nervous. As she was approaching me, she let the riding crop just once hit her hand. The sound of it now made me really frightened. Her predator eyes saw it and the glitter lit up in them. She was luxuriating in this moment. As she passed me by she whispered in my ear, "do not worry sweetie, I shall be very soft, okay?"

I nodded yes and calmed down again, suddenly aroused.

"Spread your legs pet - and keep them spread", She commanded, stern again.

I spread my legs as wide as my toes would possibly allow it.

"Wider", she commanded, and to confirm this command she gave me a little motivating slap on my inner thighs. Thanks to my high heels training I could indeed spread a little wider, but I actually now was balancing on my big toes only. I instantly felt it hurt a little. But I kept my mouth shut. I had provoked this. Here we go.

"Have you any idea pet", She began, standing behind me", "what this little crop can do?"

I was shaking my head no.

"This is a little joystick, pet. It can be so soft, so enticing, so arousing - and so hard, so biting, so full of fear."

And with this she let the crop wander over my back, softly caressing me with the leather. God felt that good. The crop wandered over my inner thighs, ever so softly that I closed my eyes. I had not expected this. I was suddenly so wet between my legs that I was dripping.

"So you like this, pet. You are already dripping. Very good, pet!"

She resumed the caressing and let it wander up on my inner thighs, and up until she had reached my precious spot, where she, soft and slowly, let the leather play on my lips and, yes, and kiss them with it. It felt so good that I instantly began to moan.

"So soft", she whispered and began to massage my cunt that my moaning went louder, "so soft", she whispered and I began to drift off, eyes closed, and immersed into this sensual caressing.

"So soft", she whispered again and I felt that I was near the edge already, "and so hard", she suddenly said with her stern voice again, and, faster as I could think in my already foggy state of arousal, she gave me a blow on my left ass-cheek. I jolted up in an instant as far as this was possible while balancing on my toes. I could not even shout ouch or something, so irritating was this feeling I was in. But as my brain began to get into motion she already was caressing me again with that soft leather top of her crop. She went up my back to my armpits, ever so slowly, ever so softly, that I could not withstand but to moan again. As she petted my armpits a little I started to shiver, but not from some pain. I was feeling extreme pleasure, because I would not know what was to come. Other than in my plays, were I always knew what was to come, where I had to know what was to come, I now could totally luxuriate in this very moment the crop stroke softly over my armpit.

I was falling down right into her arms. There was no next, there was not even a next second. I closed my eyes, falling, as suddenly she gave me a blow on my right ass-cheek, harder than the first. I jolted up again, however, the fog in my head was still there. I even felt it to dense up. And yes, I was moaning from the blow. I felt my brain literally slowing down, because in that instant I was reacting on the blow she already was to caress my body with the crop again. She let it wander around the other side of my back, to my other armpit, up my arms as if she would hug me. And before this feeling could really spread in me the crop was already at my cunt again, softly playing with it, softly petting it, as the next sudden blow got down on my left cheek as lightning down from the sky. I don't even know if I jolted up again, my head fell on my left shoulder and I tried to rub it against my hold up arm. I was in bliss. Again the crop started wandering around my back body, up, down, softly stroking, unbearably caressing, tormenting in its sensual petting. I felt that I was building. Back she was on my cunt and this time I jolted up from her soft touch, I felt me building, I felt me rising, I moaned out "yes" just before the next blow got down on my ass. And I was still building.

My head was empty now, I was just her's. And faster as I literally could feel it the crop already wandered again around on me, agonizingly away from my joy-spot, up my back, to my armpits and down again. My pussy was now a spring of my juices, my whole body tingled, craved, wanted. The next blow that got down on me raised my arousal even higher, and even if I had wanted to, there would have been nothing I could have done about it. I was hers, her plaything, her girl. I was not even sure anymore if a blow was a blow or a caressing, or if a caressing was a blow, they felt all the same so good. And I was building.

The crop was suddenly on my breasts, wandering around, caressing my nipples, petting them, kissing them. My eyes remained closed, there was no outside anymore. The crop went down slowly to my cunt, on my lips, massaging them, spreading them, and as the crop softly entered me I could not keep myself on my big toes anymore, I sank down a little, just hanging there in this tantalizing state of pure lust. A blow got down on my thighs, but after just an instant the crop already caressed this spot again, wandering up and down, left and right, back to my cunt, and away again. I was crying out a loud moan as the crop just stroked over my clit and down to my thighs again. I was edging, oh god was I edging. And another blow on my other thigh.

Back went the crop to my breasts, to my tingling and needful breasts were my rock-hard nipples craved for attention. The crop petted them softly, as a blow got down just on one of my nipples, not even touching my breast, as the crop already was down on my cunt to softly stroke her, and on my joy-spot, teasing, teasing, so ever teasing, when my other nipple got a blow. I bit my lips down, I was still building, I was edging, I was so close, I wanted to cum, I needed to cum, all fibers of my body screamed for an orgasm. The strain in my muscles was tantalizing. If I could not cum now I would be ripped into pieces from the sexual energy that burned in me like a sun.

"How long do you pet think could I do this", came a soft, but distant voice from somewhere out there, entering my cocoon of ecstasy. Was this voice even real?

A blow lightened down right on my cunt, or was it a soft stroke? Whatever it was, it pushed me forward to this very edge.

"How long do you think I could do this, pet?" The voice was sterner, nearer, as another blow got down right on my clit. This blow was biting, it was harder, I felt pain. But I was still drifting, edging, longing, screaming for that one ever orgasm I needed so badly.

"How long do you think I could do this, pet?" And a painful biting blow lightened down directly on my joy-spot. I could not help but to jolt up and cry out. In my dizzy empty head the fog started to fade, but my needyness was still unbearable. I opened my eyes and saw this glittering right in front of me. There she was.

"How long do you think I could do this, pet?" As she saw that I was diving upwards she waited patiently for me to wake up enough to show some reaction.

"Don't say a word pet, I know." Her voice was soft again, nearly playful, nearly comforting.

"I know that you are about to cum little-one", she teased, "you are so close, so ever close that a soft caress on your spot down there would send you right over the edge. Isn't that right, pet", she closed, and her eyes were on fire.

I nodded slowly. I was still dizzy.

Another biting stroke went down right on my clit. Oh how did I try to cum from this touch, no chance, it hurt too much. I cried out loud, tears in my eyes. This stroke was sheer pain.

And she spoke again. "I could do this forever, pet. I could pull you back and forth as long as I would wish! Keeping you there, right there, teasing you, tormenting you, tantalizing you with this little crop - but you would not ever cum, pet! "

She had begun so softly, speaking to me what she could do, whispering to me, seducing me with all she could do to me, but her last words were scary. My eyes opened wide, and She could smell my horror.

"You know, pet", she began to whisper again, while the crop started to wander around my breasts again, "and you know very well pet, that this is a punishment."

My eyes opened even wider, if this still was possible, my jaws dropped open, but in this very instant the crop was under my chin and very convincingly made my jaws shut again.

"Don't say a word pet, I know", she said. Her presence was suddenly so overwhelming, so incredibly overwhelming, that I could not help but to shiver in fear.

"Did you really think you could get away with your nasty behaviour, pet? Cheating your Mistress, trying to seduce me to play with you, silly-one?"

My head was now clear enough to get her. She saw it very well. And as she saw it, that crop went down again to caress my joy-spot. I was still in ecstasy, but I was so very little too away from the edge that this was not enough to sent me over.

"Yes my pet", she whispered so incredibly softly, "you will not cum."

These words, so softly spoken, so violent in there meaning got down on me like a dagger. And as I had fully realized them, in my state, in this very state of agonizing needyness, so close, so hot, so dripping wet, by the realization that she..., that she would deny me, I lost all this tiny rest of control that I had left. It was like the floor under my toes was drawn away. I fell deep, I trashed in my bonds, I cried, I moaned, I begged for mercy, I cried for mercy, I screamed for mercy. My eyes floated to lakes, to oceans, as my tears ran down my face. And as I had not enough energy anymore to trash in my bonds I just was hanging there, hanging from the ceiling by a spreader bar and pleaded her with my wet eyes. I could not utter a single word anymore. I was so close still. And I was so sure that now she was in her heaven now, that my utter despair was her orgasm. I saw it, she was dripping wet. But she did not touch herself.

After I was a little calm again, she spoke again, whispering "when I lose your bonds now, pet, do not dare to touch yourself, or you learn the crop from it's other side."

I was trembling with fear. This was too much for me. But I could not do anything about it, not in my so utter state, not in her overwhelming presence.

After she had made me lose she took me in her arms and softy stroke my head.

"All is good my little-one, my sweet little little-one, sh."

She than grabbed me by my shoulders, turned me around and guided me to her bed. As her hands left, I stood still, not daring to make a single movement that was not commanded by her.

She came around of me, stood in front of me and her hands laid down softly on my shoulders again. A little push and I went down on my knees in front of her. She lowered herself on her bed and whispered, "come some closer, pet." I instantly did as ordered. As I was close she spread her legs wide and, again with her hands, guided me to this place between her legs. I did not even need a command from her. I instantly began to lick her, to softly eat her out, muzzy from her wet smell, from her very wet sweet smell, and muzzy from my own arousal. I was still there, on this damned sweet edge.

Expertly I let my tongue do it's work, and by licking her, sucking her, biting her softly I felt so much a slavegirl than hardly ever before.

Because she was on her edge too, it did not take me long until she came hard. She grabbed my head and pressed my face into her wetness that I could breath no more, just smell her, just feel her how she was cumming, convulsing, moaning from this sweet bliss that she so cruelly had denied me. I felt as I did never before. All this made me still more aroused. It was incredible. But I would obey and not touch me.

Her orgasm went on forever, me face held tight on her cunt. As she came down slowly, she let me lose, put one hand softly under my chin and draw my face up.

"Thank you my sweet pet", she whispered again. I remained on my knees, head bowed down. She laid back on her bed, head on her pillow, luxuriating in her afterglow, breathing heavily, sighing sweetly.

After some while, I think it was a while, because I had lost all track of time, she said "pet", and I instantly raised my head and looked at her, awaiting her command.

"Come to me little-one", and she petted with her palm on the place besides her. "Come into my arms."

I raised up from my knees and did as ordered. I laid my head down on the arm she had commended me to, and she instantly began caressing through my hair. "Snuggle closer", she whispered, and relax."

She put her other arm around my upper body, agonizingly touching my breasts, teasing my nipples.

We must have been there for quite some time, quietly. The warmth of her body, her ever closeness was working on my still so living need.

Then, out of a nothing, she softly raised my head such that I had to match her eyes. They were calm now, no glitter, no fire, just dark brown.

"How was it my dear", she asked.

With these words I knew that our game was over. Automatically my hands began to wander down along my body, but she grabbed them and raised them up again.

"Not yet", she said.

I took all my fading power together and answered her, now her equal again.

"It was unbelievable", I said, "and as I am still hot as hell it is still unbelievable for me. I never was so close and I never was so denied. I accept this punishment, because I deserve it. I am even puzzled that most of the blows did not even hurt. The first, yes, maybe the second, but then. Until you called me back into reality the blows were just the same as soft strokes or caresses."

"This is the entrance to my world", she said. "The whip is not meant to hurt, it is there to create arousal, to create bliss. But the whip has two sides, it also can bring you down, only to heat you up again when it is about time. I caressed you, I whipped you softly - and when I say softly I mean softly - and denied you and I finally degraded you to be my lick-toy, well knowing how much you needed, and still need to cum. I know how close you were, so very close, pet. Dommes must also be good observers and, yes, psychologists. You are an open book to me, little-one. Slaves do not need that. What should they observe anyway. They do just feel. And I made you a gift, little-one. I gave you a shade of how it would be to have a real Mistress. What we have played together is impossible to play alone, right?"

I nodded.

"You cannot play tease and denial on your own because, at some point, as strong your will ever would be, you could not help but to get yourself off."

I nodded again. "Thank you", I said. "The most incredible thing to me, besides the height of arousal I am still in was, that I felt your overwhelming presence as you declared that you would deny me. I felt your power, you were a goddess then."

"Yes", she replied, "that is it. When the slave is at the threshold to real obedience, not to the played one that belongs to this game, to real obedience, than she is about entering subspace. You have been in subspace while you were licking me. You drifted into subspace in the very moment you gave up fighting. Your feelings were so overwhelming, so incredible that your brain, even your brain", she teased, " was not able to process all this contradictory information anymore, it is on overload, no working space left, it just shuts down all its higher functions. This is why subspace does feel so good for the slave, because there is definitely no interference with any kind of logic anymore. The neocortex is down, the limbic system is nearly down. The slave does not have any kind of ego anymore, this is all gone. But this also makes this state so dangerous. If a Mistress would order a slave in this state to jump out of the window she would do it, without any hesitation, just to please her Mistress, just because being ordered."

I nodded again. "Now I can really understand about this responsibility a Domme must have", I said. "But about this whipping. I mean, that could not have been all, am I right?"

"O course you are, sweetie. But, as I said, this pain is meant to be pleasure, this fear is meant to be pleasure, the degrading is meant to be pleasure and the despair is meant to be pleasure. But, as everywhere in BDSM, it must be trained. It is a conditioning little-one. A human being, for some reason ever, is longing for to be bound, is longing for to be whipped. And when he or she cannot stand it anymore without it they begin to do something about it. With Dommes it is the same, but as I told you yesterday, we have quite the harder side of this medal. A sub can sub without a Domme, well not everything she longs for, but most of it. A Domme cannot Domme without a sub. And as you are into bondage from your teenage on, I was into domination since my teenage. If I had seen this picture from the magazine you have told me about, I would have instantly known that I wanted to be the women with the whip. You have no idea what I did to the poor boys that felt attraction to me at school. I never liked boys, like you, but they did not know. And like a donkey goes behind the carrot without ever reaching it, so it was in my games then. I was the carrot, and they were all donkeys. And when I had them on my hook, they did everything I ordered them just for a look, just for a little touch on my breasts, my feet, or, as a reward for very degrading things I had commanded them to do, to see me naked. The last must have been the most devilish torture of all. So close - and still so far away. But I think that, in the end, I did them a favour. These boys now may perhaps be happy subs under the heel of a Mistress or maybe a Master. If they began to think it through, they should have come to this conclusion. Or they were indeed just donkeys.

But back to your initial question. With the whip and all the other things it is quite the same as with bondage, or obedience, or your favorite, lets call it your orgasm training. You long for it, but you must be trained to reach level after level. It is education and conditioning. This can go so far that the addict cannot cum anymore without her or his play. I could never whip you like I have whipped my last slave shortly before she left. She could take it, you could not still. And as you always want more and stricter bondage, more helplessness, and now even to be forced, it's the same with the whip. Can you cum without bondage, my dear?"

I grinned.

"Well", I replied, "after my first real teenage orgasm I noticed that I can go up like a rocket, anytime, everywhere. I really pity these poor women who never had a real orgasm in their lives. But in bondage it is of course so much more intense. Sometimes I cum as fast as a man, sometimes it takes me, by full stimulation, twenty minutes, half an hour or so. The crawling towards the edge is then ever so slowly that it becomes unbearable, but it is wonderful. The orgasm that follows is without words. It is..., no it is without words. Or maybe I can give you a picture from astrophysics. When a star is about to die it undergoes heavy contractions, forward, backward, it is a pulsation of utmost energy, of utmost strain, of incredible power. This goes on for thousands, ten-thousands, hundred-thousands, millions of years, storing more and more energy, storing more and more strain until the final outburst comes. This is an event of such incredible power, of such wordless violence and of such wonderful beauty that one could truly say that such a star dies in a terrific, mindblowing orgasm. And it devastates everything close by. And by close by I mean some light-years. When the sun is about to die, she will blow up the whole solar system with her, and some region far beyond. There is a star, Rigel, in the Orion constellation. This star is a blue super-giant. It is around one million times larger than our sun, in volume. When she, I like to call this star a she, so when she goes up in a giant super-nova, she will devastate everything around her for five, ten, maybe even twenty light-years, and maybe even more. And a light-year is a very large distance from a human point of view. In the end she will eventually become a black hole, feasting on everything that comes to close by. And I think that I sometimes, when I am really lucky, I have a Rigel orgasm. As you said, I am trained."

I could not help to giggle loud after my last words - and I kissed her. And she kissed back.

"May I ask you a question", I said, a little timidly.

"Ask little-one, you may ask me everything."

"Are you, I mean... are you my... are you my Mistress now?"

She looked at me, then she took me in her arms. "If you want to go the road of the whip sweetie, I could become your Mistress. But believe me little-one, you are not a whippy girl. I know you better than you do. You certainly do have somehow a talent, as I have seen today, but I am sure that this is not your road to go."

"Maybe you are right", I said with a sad voice.

"Sh", she made, petting my head softly. "But let me think about it. We could play amongst equals, amongst friends. I mean we are equal before and after the play, like now. I would have someone to dominate, and in return you can get an idea of how it is to be under the spell of a real Mistress. But let's get one thing straight little-one. I will let you suffer, maybe like today, maybe even more. You have no idea what I can do to you. You can explore your need for domination, your weakness, your wish to fall down into strong arms. What I cannot give to you so far is the shelter and the comfort a Mistress can give her slave. And I will only eventually let you orgsam. Only when I think you really earned it. And maybe, but only very maybe, I will force you to orgasm beyond your widest dreams. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does", I sighed and snuggled as ever close to her warm and soft body. "But may I ask one last question?"

"You have permission", she said, grinning broadly.

"May I call you Mistress, at least when we play."

"Yes little-one, you have permission to call me Mistress."

"And now", she said, back in play-mode, "here is may first order. You go home now, because I have still to work on this shit of a magazine I am slaving for. But you are not allowed to touch yourself before six o'clock in the evening. In return, you can take the Hitachi with you. Understand?"

Snuggling even closer to her I was so relieved to be allowed to say "yes Mistress, thank you Mistress."

"And sweetie, you are of course still on diet. Coffee in the morning, salad for lunch, evening some fruit and some vegetables, let's say one apple and two potatoes. All without fat. But that goes without say. But as I am not cruel you are allowed the tenth part of a bar of chocolate as a bedtime cookie. There is one exception. This is a very strict diet, I know, and in a case you feel that you are hypoglycaemic, you are of course allowed what you need to get over it. I trust you to not to abuse this privilege. And you are allowed to smoke as much as you like. I know that you need this to do your research."

Her orders came out of her like fire out of a machine gun. I was so baffled that I did not even know what was happening to me as it was already over again.

"Get up sweetie, there is still something to do about your diet." I got up and she got up too. She unceremoniously took a measuring tape out of a cupboard and commanded me "arms up." I obeyed instantly. Then she measured my waist and wrote down the number. "This is acceptably good sweetie. Let's see if we can do some better, don't we, pet! Go now, little-one."

Outside on the street, walking home, I was still baffled. I lit up a cigarette and thought about it. The chocolate was the top of all. The tenth of a bar of chocolate as a bedtime cookie, gosh. Chocolate is one of my great weaknesses, and my me-Mistress did not ever restrict this need. Clear, because that was me again. How can she know that this tiny piece of chocolate would cause me an unbearable appetite? That I was allowed the chocolate did of course mean that I must eat it. About the orgasm I so desperately needed, I was still near the top. Her orders had done good work to that. I had no permission to touch me before six additional hours would have gone by, and the Hitachi, as the carrot, right before my eyes. A slaves life I sighed. And I loved every minute of it.

6. My first not me-Mistress - and my last one

Waiting for the time to pass until I was allowed to use the Hitachi, I somehow got the idea that she had all planned this. Yes, she had rejected me, almost three times. But she had given me her phone number after she had scanned me through while we were talking frankly about our fantasies and needs. The phone number has been her idea. It has been her idea to become friends. And it was her that had invited me to her place, presenting me the Hitachi, the carrot. As she said, I am an open book to her. And how was she right! And while we had breakfast she was already domming and tormenting me just because I had unveiled that I would be on diet. The predator. She already had shot me on our first date - and had let be bleed and suffer for two weeks. Bitch - sorry Mistress. Our conversation the evening before was certainly real, the things we had talked about have been to serious as that somebody could play it. Anyhow, that would be so cowardly that it was unbelievable. She was a good one. If I had not really much knowledge about other peoples minds, even when they would it spread out before me, I knew for sure that she is a good one. Because I felt it. And smart she is. While I thought that I was about to seduce her she was in fact about to seduce me to seduce her. She was right, a slave does not have to observe, or to know anything, she should just feel and obey. The less a slave would know, the better the session would be.

On Sunday noon my doorbell rang. I was still naked and only in my heels. Who on earth could be this. But then I got an idea. I click-clacked to my door and saw though the spy. Yes, it was her. I opened the door immediately and showed me off in all my glory. Her eyes glittered, but she did as she would not even notice me. She came in, and began to snoop around my apartment. She looked in there and there, eventually drawing a finger over some furniture and disgustingly snipping away that little bit of dust she had found. Then she snooped my goodies. I saw that she was impressed, but she did as my collection was nothing near to impressive.

"Quite acceptable little-one", she said so parenthetically that it nearly hurt me. But I knew that she was scheming.

"Oh my dear little-one, how can you ever live in here" she teased. You did not do your dish-washing, over there is dust, here too, your bed is not made up, and, and, and. No my pet, this not acceptable. My slaves deserve to live in a nice and tidy place. But I have a good cure that will serve to improve your manners."

With that she dropped the bag she had brought with her on the floor and also her coat. My eyes went wide. She only wore a black satin negligee with red applications underneath, and black high heels.

"And sweetie", she added, "you should close the door by now. We do not want us to get a cold, do we pet."

Only in this second I noticed that I still stood naked at my open door. I had not even noticed that she had a bag with her, but only when she dropped. She is so fast I thought. How does she do it. Or am I so slow?

After that she let herself drop down on my sofa, put her legs up and stretched herself out over it's whole length. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows. I immediately closed the door, ran to take up her coat from the floor and hang it up at my cloakroom, dusting it off while I did so, one eye on her as far as I could. She just luxuriated on my sofa, stretched out her legs and arms and yawned a little.

"What are you waiting for, stupid-one", she said, her voice perceptibly gaining firmness, and pointed out to the bag on the floor. I hurried up to it, took it up and opened it.

"Mistress", I began but she instantly snapped up my word.

"We did not need any talk so far pet, did we? I think we should keep it like this for now. And anyway, I see no necessity of yours asking questions darling, especially when not allowed to speak. And you are not even allowed to ask for permission to speak", she said softly and I already began to tremble. How does she do this?

I bowed my had down and was not sure if I should get on my knees. She cleared this situation for me as fast and as effective as she was.

"You know very well what is inside this bag and how to use it. Do not bow, just go, little-one!"

Inside the bag was a french-maid's costume made from latex, a feather duster, and high heels that I expertly estimated on no less that 15 centimetres.

"I saw her shrugging her shoulders and raising one of her eyebrows while still looking in my direction. She was losing patience and I really needed to hurry up now. I tossed my heels away and put on the pair she had brought me and they luckily had my measures. Wearing heels with just one measure smaller can be hell. The french-maid's costume was a little more tricky. She had brought no powder or silicon oil with her, but the dress was as shiny as it should. But I had my own one it lightened trough my brains, so I hurried up to one of my cupboards, searched the oil, creamed me in and slipped into the dress as fast as I could. I noticed that it had a corset worked in, that I towed as tight as possible immediately. As I was done I grabbed the feather duster and was about to commence my work at once as she suddenly said "come to me sweetie."

I went over to her, thanking my inner Mistress for my high heels training, because fifteen centrimetres are really a challenge. As I stood stock-straight in front of her she looked up at me and gave me a measure tape with a very parenthetical motion of her hand. All she did was extremely parenthetical. I took it and looked at her.

"Well little-one, you are a little stubborn today, aren't you pet. Measure!"

I still looked at her, stubborn as I was. I began to like this.

She impatiently raised one of her eyebrows. "Your waist, sweetie, go on! Or do you want to make your Mistress angry pet." Her voice was suddenly scary.

I did instantly as ordered, measured my waist and waited.

"You are allowed to tell me pet", she said.

I told her, she wrote it down. "And off you go pet, you should know your duties by now."

Again she was extremely parenthetical, so as if I not really would be there. She played the grand dame of the house and I was now just a little low nothing of a maid that got no other attention than orders to clean. And she said all this in a way as if I would be the stupid-one, because everything should be clear. What was she good.

Off I got to my maid's duties, while she was luxuriating on my sofa, obviously very content and very amused about her stupid little servant.

I started to dust off my cupboards and my shelves in the living room.

Again she said parenthetically "your waist-measure now is a appreciable goal for your diet, isn't it, pet!"

I gulped, but I did show not the slightest reaction. We both knew that this was impossible. But why not playing as if. She was awesome how she did it. She had me in her hands right after entering my flat and her pace was so fast that I could only stun and react. As I was about to kneel down to dust of the lower shelves she had only to make a little "shsh", and I stood stiff.

"We wouldn't kneel without having permission, would we pet. To kneel is a privilege that you have to earn yourself. For now you are only allowed to bow down deeply. Mistress wants to see how wet you are little-one."

And more wet I got instantly. I did not wear any underwear, so I would be fully exposed. Bowing down to the floor in fifteen centimetres high heels is quite a task, even when you are flexible. I did my best to satisfy her as I tried to expose myself as much as I could, while not forgetting about the dusting. Through my legs I could take a small glance at her face. She was very satisfied with me. I was already dripping. I looked down to the floor as fast as I could when I saw her head moving a little into my direction. She still played as if I would not be present at all.

As I thought I had finished my living-room I was about to enter my kitchen for dusting and dish-washing she said just a little "ah" and I got stiff again.

"You are a little sloppy, aren't you pet? Shouldn't you go about it all again, sweetie?"

I did not even dear to sigh - and I did immediately as ordered. Again I did the cupboards and the shelves. And this time I also did the whole floor, bowing down all the time on my very high heels, exposed all the time to her glittering gaze. As I was doing the floor step by step my calves began to ache from bowing down, and I was about to get a cramp in my left lower leg. I bit my teeth together and went on. It really began to hurt but I did not make any little sound. Through my legs I could again glance at her while she glanced on me, still pretending me not to be there as something worth to notice.

I was so dripping wet. And I felt that I was building a little. I think I was already somewhat near subspace, because it came to me that I would have licked clean any little inch of my floor if she would order me a third time. She did not. With my aching legs I stumbled more that I could walk into my kitchen, glad to be out of sight. I so badly hoped that she would grant me some rest in here. Indeed she did. She exactly knew what she could demand. Obediently I began to dust off my kitchen-shelves, but maybe not as eagerly as I did the floor. But a second thought told me otherwise. What if she was about to check? God, she really had me under her spell. So I did everything with the same eagerness as in the living-room, while she was not even present. As I was satisfied with my work in a way I was sure she would be satisfied with I began dish-washing. But as I right was about to clean my cooking pots, both hands wet with spoiled water and a little dirty I heard "pet" from the living-room. Immediately I rubbed my hands tidy and dry, took the feather duster in my hand, went over and stood on attention.

"I feel so bored little-one. What about some music?" As this was no question I hurried up to my CD's as fast as I could with my aching calves, only to notice that I did know nothing about her taste. Was this a trap? As I was not allowed to ask anything I guessed and opted for some classical piece. One of my favorites from Boccherini. La musica notturna delle strade di Madrid. It is this wonderful piece they had used in Master and Commander. I really was hooked on this piece. I could hear it over and over again. Sometimes I set it on repeat, because it helped me doing some awkward calculations.

It was no trap. She said nothing, but her face obviously appreciated my choice. She knew so very well how far she could go. As I was about to stumble into the kitchen again, my calves would and would not want to relax, she just stopped me by saying "sweetie."

"Well sweetie, don' t you think that there is a little wet spot on the floor, right there, below you, do you pet."

I looked down and indeed there was a little wet spot.

"Don't you think little-one that this corpus delicti is some drop of your drippings, do you, pet." I blushed instantly, but she must be right.

"You certainly would not mind to lick it up, would you, little-one. And little-one, you are allowed to kneel down for it. You have yourself earned a kneel for today. Go on." Her voice has been sweet and soft now, but still of so powerful a command. But as she allowed me to kneel down I felt so proud because she was really satisfied with me. I joyfully got down on my knees and - what a relief for my tortured calves that was - bowed down deeply, but just not about too much in order to let her see how my tongue left my mouth on full length as to lick up that little drop of my cunt. Tasting it I was sure. That was me. When I got up again, my calves sprang back on fire. I was puzzled. Did she know all this, did she know that after this relieving relax my calves would even strain more. Surely she did, she is the Mistress, and I am the open book.

I went back to do the dish-washing. As I was just about to leave the living-room again, she whispered, "and we should not drip again, should we pet!" Obediently I nodded yes, and went back to my dishes. And I did it as eagerly and accurately as the dusting. I would give her no chance. As she heard that I was done she said "come to me my pet", and as I was there she allowed me to kneel in front of her. Suddenly she was full of caring attention. She reached out for my head with one of her hands and I would lay it down into the round of her palm, closing my eyes while luxuriating into this sweet touch of hers. Softly she made me raise my head again.

"You have done very well my sweet little pet. Mistress is proud of you."

And softly she stroke me through my hair.

"And you of course are allowed to take these heels off. Mistress thinks you deserve it."

If I would not already have fallen into, I would have fallen instantly in love with her now. She knew everything. This even made her demanding to a caring act. She would never go wider as she could. I was not really used anymore to my flat feet on a floor, except for the bathroom, but I was very relieved to be freed from those heels. She raised herself from the sofa.

"Please bring me that feather duster, would you, little-one" I got it to her in a second. She took it, shook it clean from the dust and began to softly stroke my breasts. I instantly closed my eyes from this shock of pure pleasure than ran through my body. The soft touch was even more intense through the latex. I was sweaty underneath my maid's dress, and my nipples rubbed over the latex in this wetness. They were rock-hard.

Why don't you just close your eyes sweetie, just stand still and enjoy. And would you be so kind to raise your arms above your head. Just to prevent unconscious touching, you know. You certainly would not be in for a punishment, would you pet. And pet, please spread your legs as wide as you can." She said this so softly, so seducing that I would trust her with everything she would do to me now.

I closed my eyes, spread my legs as far as my calves would allow it, raised my hands as high as I possibly could and she began to play my body like it was a violin, and the feather duster the fiddlestick. She began to wander her fiddlestick as she had moved the riding crop, over and over and all around, from my breasts to my armpits to my dripping wet pussy, softly touching my joy-spot with utmost care. I soon drifted away in this overwhelming bliss of her expertly touch. She worked as if she knew every little piece of my body, as to explore if her guesses about my sensitivity were indeed right. As far as I could even think now I would give this a clear yes. As she began to concentrate on my cunt I soon resumed to build. Her strokes were so incredibly soft that I got totally lost in this sweet feeling of arousal building up towards it's peak. I did not even feel to be on an edge, I felt as to simple dive upward without any resistance, so starving was my body for her attention, and in a few little seconds I would go up like rocket into deep space. I was so immersed in this bubbling feeling like being in a whirlpool where a thousand little bubbles kiss your tingling skin like a thousand little tongues. I did not even notice that her caressing had stopped. I was completely out of this world now.

But suddenly there was something cold slipping into my pussy, something cold between my legs, something cold around my waist and a click shut. This all has went so fast that I had no time to ever react.

"Sweetie, you may open your eyes now and admire your new chastity belt."

The word chastity belt ripped me immediately out of this sweet bliss where I had built up only one little second ago. I had been so close.

I looked at her, then I looked down at me, and there it was, my chastity belt. If I not anywhere would have been ordered to utter silence, I would have been speechless now.

"This is my today's gift to you my pet", she teased with such a seducing voice that my knees began to melt down. I simply could not help but to get on my knees.

"Oh my pet", she teased, "it is not necessary to thank me so much. I like to do this for you. Would you mind to get up again, please.

I made a silent note that, always when she would say something like please to her slave, she was into about something very mean.

I got up and looked at her again. My eyes were filling with tears, I could not help it.

"Ahahah", she said and wrapped her arms around me, "it is impossible that it hurts you somewhere. That's why I took your measures yesterday little-one. It fits as well as it must. Maybe you should get used to that dildo a little, but I think you will do fine with it. And pet, you may skip your diet. I think your measures are just perfect. Please just keep them like this. Would you do this for me pet?"

With that she raised my chin up and I had to match her eyes. Surprisingly they were only soft dark brown. An instant earlier she was as cruel as she possibly could and now she was the most caring human being on earth. My brain was about to shut down. This was simply too much for me.

"Okay again", she asked me and I simply could not do else than nod yes with my eyes silently crying on her for mercy.

"Nonono pet, it will be fine. This is for your arousal training, you know. It will allow you all the necessary body functions. Except the forbidden ones."

Again she hugged me very close and stroke along my back and over my head.

"All is well, my little brave slave", she said. This time without teasing. She reminded me about my position and what this would mean. And without any playful, but really encouraging tone in her voice "you will see, you will be fine. Maybe a little needy, but still fine. But that's part of the game. I need this to show you heights of arousal you never would have thought of to be possible."

She looked at me, encouragingly. "Speak out what you need to speak, you have permission."

I asked her, utterly fighting against my tears and my burning burning need how long I would have to wear this.

"Not for very long, not for a beginner. I think that two weeks should do fine. I got into pieces inside me. I wrapped my arms around her because I feared to just drop over. She instantly understood and carried me over to the sofa. She was really strong.

"I know, two weeks seem to be a very long time, but you are my brave little girl. And you will be very proud of yourself." I managed somehow to accept this. I nodded again, for real.

"Okay then little-one. And if anything does not fit, except that one thing, you know, just call me or visit me and I will see what we can do about it. And girl", and her voice was firming again, indicating that she changed back into play-mode, "I would cordially advise you not to play silly games in this point. You would utterly regret it. Understood, pet?" I nodded again.

She was in my brains, she was my puppet player and I just her puppet, her real pet. I laid in pure tantalizing agony. She raised herself up from me, arranging me on my sofa so that I could not fall down. She went to the cloakroom, took her coat and put it on. Before she left for two weeks, she said the following for a farewell. "And pet, the Hitachi is another gift from me to you. You are allowed to try as much as you like, but, let me tell you by my very love to you, it will not work. See you pet. I will contact you."

And off she got. As she was gone I curled up into a ball, holding me as tight as I could and let go completely.

The next Friday I got a telephone call in the evening. It was her. If I would mind if she would come for a short step by. I said "Yes Mistress". Don't call me Mistress right now, this is a friendly visit.

Just a quarter of an hour later she was there.

"How are you", she began.

"So far as I can be I am fine", I answered.

"The whole week over I did not feel very good because of you. I suddenly got the idea that it might have been too much last Sunday. I really feel remorse. So are you okay?"

She talked completely normal, without even petting me.

"Well", I began, "what you did with me last Sunday was certainly very much of a slaveload. I was done, I was desperate, I could feel my brain shut down and I collapsed in utter helplessness. But when I came back to composure I got aroused from this again, but as you know, I am completely at your mercy. What is so new to me is this absolute and total domination that you can play. You know everything about me, and you also know exactly when it is enough. It was really enough. But just about."

She sighed in deep relief.

"Wait", I said, "I am not yet done with my statement. It is clear to me by now that all my self-Mistressing was just the Kindergarten department. I never could imagine such an intensity. You rocket me up to infinity and then, in one little second, you can tear me down to minus infinity. You do literally play ping-pong with me. I do admit that this is exactly what I wanted, what I have dreamed about all this lonely years. The point is that I am so much used to orgasm. As you said, I am an orgasm-slut."

"But that is what this is all about" she answered. That is why I play on this point. I mean it for your very best. When you are used to it, you will thank me."

"I can imagine this absolutely for sure, but it is more about the pace. Two weeks of chastity, that is too much for me now. I never had spent a single week without a few orgasms. I really need them. And it starts to interfere with my real life. I am so worked up and my head is so empty from carnal desire that I have difficulties to concentrate on my calculations. And as I have told you, they are very complicated and demanding. Perhaps could we slow down please."

"Interference with your real life is an absolute nogo for me. This is serious. If we cannot resolve this, I must change my strategy."

She was so sweet and caring.

"But why didn't you call me and talk to me about it? You know that I do care."

"I tried my best to be obedient, but that made everything worse for me, because it aroused me again."

"At the moment I see two options", she said. "We could play one week instead of two, or" she paused, "did you not tell me that you could cum just by teasing your nipples?"

"That's true", I replied. "It is not quite the same, but it is an orgasm."

"And do you think, if we keep it with two weeks, one of your nipple orgasms would help you, each week?" she asked.

I thought about it. "Well", I said, "as I try my utmost best to match your orders, I would opt for the nipples first. Once a week, to my free choice when I want it. If this does not work, we should reduce it to a one week schedule first. Is that okay for you?"

"If it is okay for you, it is certainly okay for me", she replied instantly. "As I once said to you, you are an admirable strong girl!"

I smiled and she cordially smiled back.

"I was just about to play some of these silly online games to distract me. Would you like to stay a little longer", I asked. "I have a bottle of red wine in the kitchen. And as you see, it is still tidy here. When I am about to clean up, I wear my maid's uniform. When you are a slave to housework, you should at least be dressed like one."

She laughed out loud and then agreed to stay with me for the night.

When it was about time we went to bed. We snuggled close to each other and luxuriated in the warmth and closeness of the others presence, which of course aroused me even more.

"I want to ask you a question", I began.

"Then ask", she replied putting one of her arms around me.

"You had all planned this, didn't you. Right from the very moment you met me."

"Well, not right from the very moment, but yes, I have planned all this. You said that you wanted to be taken, so I took you. You told me that you would be the deer, so I shot you. I only wanted to be sure that you are the right deer to be shot and taken. But let us sleep now."

But I was not yet done with my questions. I was confused.

"But why then did you reject me, almost three times?"

"As I said little-one, I wanted to be sure than you are the right deer. I told you that our fantasies would not match, and you were not much impressed about that. You begged me. I told you about that it would not work but you simply could not help to want to call me Mistress. I rejected you a second time, but you still insisted and told me that you are ripe to be forced. I felt that it was about time to check on you. I seduced you to seduce me - and you did a good job. I pushed you to your very borderline of ecstasy only to deny you. I denied you in play and I then denied you after play and you obeyed. And then I almost rejected you a third time and saw the utter sadness in your eyes. And as I then was sure that you would only relief yourself after six additional hours would have gone by I was sure about you. You are the right deer. And then I simply took you. You were ready to leave the precise catalogue of your fantasies behind you and to enter my world, happy to just kneel at my feet. And if you now do not let me sleep little-one, I am going to order you to shut up."

It was hard for me to lie so close to her with my chastity belt on. A slaves life, I sighed. And I loved it even more.

The next morning, we had breakfast together, chitt-chatting about that and that. As I knew that I had to go on with my diet in order to keep my waist as it was, I only had a coffee. She ate a little more because her body luckily was not so serious about food as mine. After she was dressed again and about to leave, she suddenly turned around and called my "little-one". This was the signal for play-mode. I stood stiff in a second.

"You know little-one, that we should also work on your behaviour, shouldn't we."

I did not react in any way.

"So far you show already good manners, but improvement is always possible, don't you think so pet? So, when in the future you visit me, or I visit you for playtime you remain silent as long as I not have taken a seat. You then may ask permission to speak. Second, you shall never ever talk of yourself in the first person again. That does not suit a slave. An ego is only a hindrance. As a slave is a property, she is no I, she is a she or an it."

I looked a little puzzled. She saw it and gave me examples.

"So little-one listen carefully, because I only will say it once. From now on I is said by this girl or this slave. Understood?"

I nodded.

"When you are about to ask if you could do that or that, than it is: may this girl ask if she etc. Understood?"

I nodded again.

"There is no exception to this pet. Any violation of this rule will be punished severely. No have a nice day, little-one", she said and left.

May this girl ask if she has permission to speak I practiced. This sounds really good. Because this instantly added to my arousal, I fetched the Hitachi and teased my nipples to orgasm as it would be for the last time ever.

Next Friday evening she called me and ordered me to her place. I had to dress up in the following: red latex push-up, black latex gloves elbow-length, black latex under-breast corset tight as possible, black latex tights with girdle, red high heels, height of my choice. I should bring my sewing bag because I would stay until Sunday evening. And I had half an hour. I rushed.

As I stood before her she spoke. "Oh pet, I forgot something to order you. Whenever you stay on attention, you of course should have your wrists crossed on your back."

I instantly did as ordered.

"Now pet, when did you grant yourself your nipple's orgasm?"

"This girl had her nipple orgasm right after Mistress had left on Saturday morning."

"And was the relief enough to clear your head a little, pet?"

"Yes Mistress."

"And little-one, do you think that you can go on this way?"

"If this girl has permission to think, than this girl says Yes, Mistress."

Her face clearly indicated that she was relieved. And there was also a clear grin on her lips, because my phrasing with the thinking came so unexpected. To me it was not even clear how funny that was. She but had really a hard time to keep her composure. Than she answered "This girl, as a good salve, is never allowed to think, pet."

This in return hit me so unexpectedly that I could not suppress a giggle as I got the funniness in a second. Her eyes laughed at me sympathetically, so this little lapse was in order. Then we played in earnest again.

"Did you have an nipple orgasm this week, pet?"

"No Mistress, this girl did her best to be obedient."

The smile of her satisfaction was quite a sight. Then she ordered me down on my knees. She raised from her easy chair and ordered me to look up at her. She held something in her hand.

"This is a collar, little-one, this is my collar."

I instantly knew what she was about and got more wet than I already was. My skin began to tingle.

"I ask you pet, are you prepared to give yourself away to me, are you prepared to become my property, and mines alone. Are you prepared to give all your rights away to me. Are you prepared to always follow my orders without doubt or question?"

I looked up at her, my eyes watering, my heart pounding as never before.

"Yes Mistress", I said with a fading voice, "this girl is prepared."

"And in return" she said, also with a clear tremolo in her voice, "I solemnly swear to train you as best as I ever can do it, to take care of your needs and to give you the comfort and the shelter you need to feel safe and secure whenever you need it."

And with that the collar clicked shut around my neck. This felt so good that I started to cry and to sob right on the click. She ordered me to get up again and we both hugged ourselves very closely. After the storm of our peeking feelings had subsided, she stepped back, wiping her eyes clean and resumed speaking.

"From now on little-one, this what you wear is your basic slave's outfit. You shall wear it always when you visit me, or you shall always put it on when I visit you. And pet, the collar looks like as if it would be ordinary jewelry, so nobody should recognize it as that what it is."

As if I had cared about this for a second, I thought.

After she now had taken me as her property, she ordered me to follow her. At first I thought that we would go to her bedroom, but we passed by and stood in front of a curtain. She drew the curtain away and there was a door. She opened it and walked me in. I was stunned. It was a fully equipped playroom, everything seemed to be there. I forgot my good slave manners and glanced around in astonishment and excitement. She also left her play-mode for short.

"It was very expensive my dear. I do really not earn a world, but for some years I had put every single Euro that I could spare in this room. Look around, this is your new home when we play."

She walked me to the St. Andrew's cross and ordered me "arms up, legs spread" and bound me to it with leather straps at my ankles, my calves, my thighs, my waist, under and over my breasts, my upper arms and my lower arms, my wrists. I could not move an inch. Finally she gagged me with a muzzle gag. I was in bliss heaven, breathing heavily, becoming soaking wet under my chastity belt and dizzy in my head. For I had spared real bondage for such a long time now, this seemed already too much for me, because it all came so suddenly. She saw it.

"This is right the scene from this picture you have told me about at our first meeting. You fantasized to be tied to a cross, a women in front of you, right?"

I nodded silently and started to build a little.

"Very well", she resumed, "and as this is now your initiation into real slavery, this shall be my present for you. From now on, for as long as you are my property, your slave's name shall be Andrea." She took up her riding crop, and by softly blowing my both breasts and two times my cunt she said ceremoniously, "by the collar, the cuff, the whip and the vibe, amen."

For my taste this was a little overdone, but she was right. I certainly am an Andrea. And as she had baptized me so, there was not the slightest doubt about it. This girl's name is Andrea.

"Make yourself familiar with your new home pet", said it and was gone, the door utterly shut.

I gazed around my new home and was very satisfied. Everything to be needed seemed to be there. Displayed on shelves there was a vast amount of cuffs, spreader bars, rope, chains, gloves, mittens, gags, masks, blindfolds and vibes. There also were two cupboards, obviously for clothing. She seemed to be a latex and a patent leather one, because only a few things were from leather. Everywhere were hooks an eyes to attach somebody to. The canopy bed was made of steel and looked very stable. It had a red latex sheet, the covers black latex and also the cushions and the pillows black latex. Obviously it was possible to transform the bed into a cage. It was so wonderful. Not even in my wildest dreams would I have expected such a heaven to be kept in. As I gazed around I lost track of time. Only my arousal was building up to become a little unbearable. Why only do I go up so easy. In situations like these this acted like an automatic self-torment.

It must have been some while when she came back.

"Let's see how you are doing, pet", she said with an undefinable smile on her lips.

She released me from my chastity belt and I was so relieved to had that dildo came out of me. As it had touched me with every step I made while having it in me, it did never allow my arousal to cool down, not even a little.

She was very satisfied with my wetness, but then she looked somewhat astonished on my cunt.

"Ahahaha, pet, did we not tend to our joy-spots, did we pet? This is unacceptable girl! How dare you to present me some hairs on your pussy?"

I tried to argue that I have had a chastity belt on for two weeks, but out came of course only some unintelligible muffling.

"Nonono pet, there is no excuse to that. You should better take some more care, shouldn't you little-one."

And with that she turned around, went to a cupboard and took out something. As she turned around again, I could clearly see a cold-wax strip in her hands, and that devious glitter in her eyes. Completely unabashed she approached me again while I had begun to twist and struggle in my bonds that little that I could.

"This will help you little-one to keep up with my requests, won't it pet." And with that she unceremoniously pressed that damned fucking cold-wax strip right on my pussy and waited for the wax to grab that few little hair that she might have found there, if any. And then, with an extremely fast pull she ripped it off. I was on fire as never before, my eyes watered, I cried as out as loud as the gag would allow me to, and I wanted to move my body to ease this indescribable pain, but I was fixed and so my complete helplessness hit back on me and all the strain of the pain in my body suddenly collapsed such that I was just hanging in my bonds. This time my helplessness did not arouse me again, it just hit me hard and teared me down. It felt as if she had ripped off my most sensitive skin down there.

"Ah my little-one", she cruelly teased, "it's all over now. You shall feel fine very soon again. Now it will not grow within two weeks again and all will be fine my pet, my sweet little, my so strong sweet little pet."

I did not know where she suddenly had it from, but she took a cube of ice and comforted my burning cunt with it. By the first touch I jolted up as far as my strict bonds would allow me to, but then, after a while of sweet and careful stroking, I really began to feel better. She noticed instantly. I even felt some arousal again.

"Shshsh, my little-one, there you see, all is better now, all is fine again."

"Fine again", she asked, a little less playful.

I nodded reluctantly, forcing me into my role as good as I could. She noticed it with a proud smile.

"And now pet, you are certainly in for a reward, don't you think so little-one."

I nodded eagerly.

"So look pet what I have for you." She went back to one of her cupboards and took out something that I instantly recognized as a pair on Benwaballs. She opened another cupboard and took out another chastity belt. Then she came back, licked the Benwaballs wet with her tongue and shifted them into my pussy and ordered me, "try your best to keep them in sweetie!" Then she closed the other chastity belt around me and clicked it shut. This one had no dildo on it, such that the balls could move around freely. I was still in tears, but they were fading. Again she turned round and went to some of the shelves. She took a leather belt, two leather cuffs, two bondage mittens, two padlocks and came back.

"So now my little-one, you have deserved yourself a little bit of more freedom, don't you think so, pet?"

Perhaps I nodded, perhaps not. She loosened the strap around my waist and bound the strap she had fetched around it, a lock clicking shut. By looking into my eyes sympathetically, she loosened one of my arms, tied one mitten around as tight as possible, forcing my hands into useless balls. The same then with the cuff. Then she locked my useless hand to the side of the leather belt around my waist, to render it even more useless. The same with my other wrist. She got back to one of her cupboards, produced out some cuff again a cross chain and padlocks. Back she was, freeing one of my legs, cuffing the ankle and clicking one end of the chain shut. The longer part of the chain went up to my waistband and was fixed there with another lock. Only then she worked on my other leg. She did indeed leave me not the slightest chance to control my body, even a little. She literally took my body away from me. This was so confusing that I had a hard time to process this information, but when done this utter helplessness felt so good that I got wet again.

"Now my little-one", she said, and caressed my head with both her palms - what felt that good - "step ahead and tell me if the hobble chain is wide enough to allow you balancing?"

I took a few steps, already noticing the action of the Benwaballs, turned around and nodded yes. She smiled.

"Well then Andrea, I am going to cook us a little meal. You can still look around a little and then, if you wish, you may join me in the kitchen." She left and let the door open with a little slit. She did this astonishingly careful. I would soon learn to know why. I hobbled around in my dungeon to have a closer look on the playthings. And by every step the Benwaballs teased my inner cunt such that it did not take much to rise me up to medium high level of arousal. Just up there were one starts to get needy again, but already tantalizingly needy. And I could do nothing about it. In high heels it is always better to walk than to stand, so I walked. But it got soon too tantalizing, such that I sought for relief on the bed. But as I let myself down the bed started to wobble under me, what of course instantly took me up some more. A waterbed.

The Benwaballs jolted around in my innermost self. I moaned out loud and I had suddenly given anything to be able to touch me. I went so high that I cursed my obedience, I did want out! Without wanting it I began to twist and struggle against my unforgiving bonds, but that only made it worse. I was trapped, I was kept, I was the flee in the spider's web. The use of my hands completely taken away from me, my feet tied together only with just so much freedom that I could hobble around, I did not believe it, I suddenly could not stand it anymore. I wanted out.

And I did want out so badly as I needed an orgasm. My head went foggy, but I did fight against it. I got up again with some effort, hobbled towards the door, but of course the door was a trap. She exactly knew how to do it. I, of course, did this only very little wrong movement, tied as I was, and the door clicked shut. As there was a knob inside I had no ever chance to open it again. My helplessness hit me so strong that I was about to go mad right on the spot. I never had imagined, not even in my wildest bondage dreams, that I could be in such an utter and unforgiving helplessness. In my scenarios I always had to have that path to escape, but now I was trapped with no way, with absolutely no way out. The door was padded with red leather inside, such that I thought that shouting out as loud as my gag would allow me would certainly be useless.

And there I was, my body nearly taken away from me, with standing still to send increasing strain through my calves, while moving around increased my arousal into unbearable heights - and the only place to sit down without trouble a canopy waterbed. Oh what was she good. Looking back I really wonder that I still trusted her. I could really good imagine that in this situation a weaker girl than me would have chickened out totally. But I trusted her still, and that felt good on the other hand. Despite my body was at the very front of what I could take in, the warm feeling of trust calmed my nerves down. This girl is a slave, I thought to myself. This girl is a slave to her Mistress, and Mistress cares about this girl. With this mantra I hobbled over to the bed, laid me down and set it into smooth oscillations. And all of a sudden my fearful helplessness turned fully into arousal, tormenting me even more. It was tantalizing, it was nearly unbearable how I wished to have my hands free, but I did my best to luxuriate in these feelings, as my brain began to slow down. This was bondage for real.

Bubbling in my brain as I was I had no idea how long I was on the bed when the door opened and she came in.

"Why didn't you come to the kitchen and sit by me girl", she asked as coyly as she could, having noticeable trouble to keep on her Mistress voice. "Soso, you better like to enjoy yourself on the bed as to join me in the kitchen pet."

My eyes went suddenly wide, because I mused about that she would take this as an opportunity to punish me. But she did not. She helped me up and carefully walked me into the kitchen. She sat me down, fastened my upper arms and my lower legs to the chair with additional leather straps - as if I would not have been helpless enough - and said, "when I now take out your gag, you are not allowed to ask for permission to speak. Understand?" I nodded yes.

She took the gag out and I spread my jaws a little.

I saw that she must have eaten already, a plate and some cutlery were standing around used. She put some cut vegetables and some slices of meat on a plate and sat down besides me. Then she took the fork, speared up some vegetables and - began to feed me!

I chewed carefully, but not without pleasure. How far would she be able to take this, I mused silently. Very far, as I was to find out soon. After some four or five forks with vegetable or meat, she granted me one or two sips of water from a glass standing besides my plate, than she fed me again. After I was finished, she wiped my mouth clean with utmost care. Then she lit her up a cigarette, inhaled and exhaled with true pleasure. Then she held the cigarette to my lips, such that I could also inhale my part. This way we silently smoked a cigarette together. After the cigarette was finished she loosened the straps holding me to the chair and said, "get up Andrea, lets watch some movies. I think we both need a little distraction, don't we?" I kept my mouth shut and nodded obediently. This was not a question.

She walked me over to the living-room and sat me down on her sofa, put a DVD into the player, came back and snuggled as close to me as ever possible, my head on her shoulder, her one arm around my shoulder, eventually stroking through my hair. I do not remember the movie, I was still too foggy from arousal. After the movie was finished we again smoked a cigarette, then she ordered me to get up. I did as ordered and she walked me to her bathroom. Now it got really interesting. The entrance to her shower was low based, such that I could walk in without problems. She took my shoes off, then my chastity belt and the Bewnaballs out. Then she lowered a spreader bar from the ceiling. Only one arm after the other she freed but instantly tied it to the spreader bar. She had taken the mittens and my gloves off, and she gave me not the slightest chance to move freely.

"Before showering you little-one I shall give you an enema, so you can do your business. Have you ever had an enema?" I shook my head no.

"In this case try as you can take it, but do not force yourself just to please me, okay?"

I nodded yes. She turned on a special headpiece onto the shower and softly entered my rear with it. Warm water flowed into me. I was surprised how easy this was.

"Okay", she asked and I nodded my head yes.

As she was about to take the shower out she ordered, "press shut as good as you can girl." I did as ordered and she walked me over to the toilet, without taking away the spreader bar from my hands. The chain it was hanging from was long enough to allow this. I did both my businesses. When I was finished she took me up again and walked me back into the shower, where she pulled up the spreader bar as high as it would allow me to remain flat on my feet, but in some strain. Only then she unshackled my legs, took off the tights and all the other little stuff I was wearing and put it in a bin. "I will clean them for you", she said. Then she took the shower with it's normal headpiece and began to shower me. The warm water felt good on my skin. After I was wet she creamed me in with soap and gave me a little massage. Not that this would not have had some devilish background, because it aroused me again. And she thoroughly cleaned me between my legs, sending me into shivers. What a mean bitch my Mistress was. After browsing the soap off, she dried me everywhere.

"When I now free your arms you should not make a single move without order little-one! Understood pet?" I nodded yes. She freed my arms and fetched a black latex straightjacket. She ordered my arms in and instantly buckled them to my back.

"We do not want to risk any unwilling movements while sleeping, do we pet", she teased. I did not nod this time. She grinned, glitter in her eyes. She exactly could smell the sexual desperation I was in.

The straightjacket was chosen expertly, because there were no bands passing through between the legs. She really took not the slightest chance. With the straightjacket on she walked me to the sink, ordered me "mouth open, please", and began to brush my teeth. It was so unbelievable. My teeth done, she walked me to my dungeon, made me to lay down on the bed and tied my ankles loosely to the lower frame of the bed.

"I will join you in a minute pet", she said and got to the bathroom herself. I had completely lost all track of time. Eventually she came back, laid down besides me, towed the latex sheet over both of us, snuggled close, hugging me with one of her arms and said, "you have permission to wish me a good night pet."

I did as ordered, she wished back and fell asleep soon. Well, not me. I lay there and was as perplex as I have never been before in my life. A slaves life? Yes, it was a slaves life as being a total property of my Mistress. Not even my body belonged to me anymore. Eventually I fell asleep too, with the bed beneath softly waving me into oblivion.

The next morning she kissed me awake. She must have been up for quite some time. She untied my feet, then helped me up.

"Do you need the toilette little-one?" I shook my head no and she walked me to the kitchen instantly, sitting me down again, tying me to the chair I have set in yesterday.

"I know girl that you have set yourself on diet, and I appreciate this very well. But the game we are in for this weekend burns a lot of calories, such that it would be fully irresponsible to let you get away with a coffee only."

She was soooo caring. I looked into her eyes with true love.

"I have prepared some things for you as you can see. I was only about guessing, because I do not know your favorites for breakfast yet. Bread with some jam", she asked and I nodded yes. "Smoked sausages", I nodded yes, "fried eggs", she asked, me nodding yes. "Maybe an English breakfast, then you will have it altogether?" I nodded yes eagerly. I was hungry as hell. It is true, this game burns a lot of calories.

She must have already eaten her breakfast, because she just fed me again. She sipped me in some orange juice, then some coffee and made herself about to make my English breakfast. I ate it and swallowed so eagerly such that she said "slowly my pet, we would not want to choke, would we little-one!"

After I had eaten up we drank another coffee, but this time together from the same cup and we smoked one cigarette. She then walked me to the bathroom and carried out the same procedure as yesterday evening, including my hair. It had got very sweaty from yesterday, so this was very necessary. After she had showered me and dried me off she asked if I would ever had used a butt plug. With my eyes going wide, she already had the answer.

"Don't worry my pet, I shall take a small one only. Please spread your legs", and in it went. I certainly made some faces. "It will be in perfect harmony with the inside of your cunt, you will see soon, and feel.

"When I free you from the spreader bar and sit you down for your hair to be done, please put your lower arms on your thighs and keep your legs shut. And we do not move an inch, do we, little-one?"

I did as ordered and she expertly did my hair, while I was feeling this butt plug as nothing else other. As she was satisfied with my hair she ordered me up again and put me on my slave's outfit that was cleaned and shiny as it should be. After she had bound my wrists to my waist again she walked me into my dungeon home again, put a bondage collar around my neck, connected it with a chain hanging from the ceiling and left.

Increasing pace, I thought to myself. Even less possibility to move, because the chain was fixed to a unmoving hook. A few minutes and she was back.

"Oh what I am a stupid Mistress", she began. "I am so awfully sorry pet, but I forgot to buy enough food for today and tomorrow." I shrugged my shoulders.

"I have to go for food, there is no doubt about that. But it would be completely irresponsible if I would leave you in bondage here. But even more irresponsible it would be to leave you without bondage. We would not want to seduce you to do something stupid, would we little-one!"

Now I got what this was about. She wanted to take me out. Immediately she took my gag off and put her finger on her lips, "sh" she made. If I had ever dared to talk. She undid my arms from the belt and unchained my legs. "Still you stand pet, I am right back."

When she was back she held normal tights in one hand and normal gloves in her other.

"Sit down" she ordered, and I sat down on the bed. She took my shoes off, slipped my latex legs into the normal black tights and up over my chastity belt without taking the Benwaballs out. Then she put me on street heels, but still with ten centimetres of height. So this was her game. She did the same with my latex gloved hands and the normal gloves. She walked me to the cloakroom, put me on my trench coat and pulled it tight at my waistline. She did the same for her, took on her bag then, took one of my arms, hooked herself in and we went out for food, the Benwaballs happily swinging around in my cunt, teasing me into lunacy.

She, of course, decided that we definitely should go downtown to the Galleries, because the food would be the best there, completely ignoring the small supermarket that was close by, which of course had the same food. We could have taken the public transport, but she preferred a walk, as she explained to me. I would be in the need for fresh air. The latex smell from the dungeon is fine, but some variety would quite be in order. So here we went, her comfortable in her street clothes, me in my slave's outfit underneath my coat and Benwaballs in my cunt that got me closer and closer.

"By the way Andrea", she said, "please do not try something stupid with public loos, yes?" I nodded my head yes in true desperation. How far would she go still?

In the Galleries she took her time to slowly glance around, walking me there and there and back again as if she could not decide what to buy. As I had permission to hint her about the food, all else was forbidden, I was about to go mad. Driven by my arousal I only could utter words. Sometimes she ordered me to speak again because she pretended as if she not had understood what I had just uttered.

How far would she go, I asked myself again. And I was again up to the point where I did not know anymore if I still liked this or if I wanted out. For sure I wanted this orgasm. This only kept me obedient so far. I knew she was training me self-control and obedience and she wanted my arousal up to the most unbearable heights. Would she release me on Sunday? I desperately wanted to be her good-girl and because I desperately wanted this orgasm I kept still. She gave me a hard lesson and I was again about to chicken out. But only just about. She was so good. How could I ever have another Mistress after her, if, for some bad reason, we had to split up. She was that only and very Mistress all around the world, and she had found me and had taken me as her booty. I still could not believe my luck. And there it was, as hard as it was in my present state - this complete trust in her.

After shopping was done she asked parenthetically if I would mind to take a taxi back. It would be such a long way to go twice. I sighed in relief and eagerly nodded yes.

She stroke my left cheek with her right palm and petted me on my shoulder, encouragingly. To my ever astonishment she ordered the driver to a completely wrong address. And there we got. This mean bitch had chosen an address were she knew that the taxi would have to use a cobbled street. Now not only my Benwaballs drove me mad, but also my butt plug fucked me a little. Some cobbled streets in Dresden were still in a, say, socialistic state, and she had expertly chosen one of the worst of these. There were even potholes, and the driver did obviously not care about, because he was used to this utter devastation. As she saw that I was about to cry she took my hands in hers and pressed tight. She whispered, "it will soon be all over Andrea. I am so proud of you that I could also cry, with joy and deep respect." Immediately she ordered the driver to the right address and we left the cobbled street.

At home she made somehow a worried face, judging if she had probably gone to far. But I kept my mouth shut obediently and she understood this. I was about to break, but only just about. She hugged me tight and caressed my back and my head.

"My ever brave little girl", she whispered in my ear. "It is all for your best. To keep your courage I shall unveil to you that you will be allowed to orgasm tomorrow afternoon. And after your orgasms you will understand all this tantalizing torment and will thank me on your knees and beg for more. Understand pet? And moreover, I also did not orgasm since the two weeks. I am hot as hell also. Tomorrow, first you will make me orgasm, than you will have yours. Okay?"

I nodded yes into her shoulder. Suddenly I felt comforted and sheltered by her, despite this unbearable desperation between my legs. She absolutely knew what she did.

Then, "would you mind to have a break little-one. I think you need it. Let us leave the play-mode and cook us our meal and eat it just as the good friends we are. Would you like this Andrea?" I again nodded my head against her shoulder.

"And for this time you of course have permission to talk normally to me. There is, however, one exception pet. There is no discussing about the Benwaballs and the butt plug, yes."

I said "yes", relieved that I was allowed to use my voice again. However, in my state it was easier said than done to act as we would just be friends that were about to cook themselves a Saturday's lunch. But she was also a mastermind in relaxing me. Soon we talked and chit-chatted about everything that came to our minds. She asked me about my work. She, of course, did not understand much, but it helped me into normalcy. And cooking is always some kind of relaxation. In fact, it is a meditation and it calmed me down a little. The possibility to use my voice and do other things that were not related to any sexual context helped to my very relaxation, too.

We made us a loin of chicken for each, fried pineapples and curry-sauce with some rice.

"Do not eat more than you can take in Andrea, remind your corset. It will not come off, yes? It may sound strange, but I cordially advise you to eat most of the meat and the pineapples. But you should spare the rice as you can. Cereals, and rice is a cereal, can make you very, let's say full. Right?"

"Yes Mistress", I said.

She grinned. "For the moment I am not your Mistress Andrea, I am your friend."

"But it would feel wrong if I would not call you that title", I said. "I feel good about it."

"Yes", she said, "maybe it is hard for you not to call me Mistress. But it is of utmost necessity that you do not confuse our playtime with our normal lives. If I ever would become your 24/7 Mistress, who knows, but anyhow, this would still be away some light-years. Understand?"

"I do understand, yes. And I try my very best."

We ate our meals and had one glass of white wine to it. And I minded my corset. And indeed she was right about the rice, as always she was right. My sweet Mistress.

After the meal we had some chocolate for a dessert and coffee and cigarettes as much as we liked. I actually smoked a lot, because I starved for nicotine. Two a day like yesterday, that is ridiculous for me. We sat there and kept on talking for about another hour.

Then she suddenly said, "do you need to use the toilette dear?"

I thought about it. "Yes", I said.

"Shall I do it for you in play-mode, or do you want to do it in, let's say dignity?" She could not help but to laugh about her words.

I laughed too, and when I got my composure back I said with a firm voice, "play-mode please, Mistress."

With calling her Mistress our friends-time was up and playtime was about to resume.

"Up", she ordered, and I instantly got up from my chair, instantly noting the Benwas again. "Swallow this", she ordered. "It is an digestif, that will ensure that you do not eruct from eating while you are gagged, little-one." I swallowed it with a sip of water. She put me on the bondage-mittens and the cuffs and tied them to my waist again. Then she walked me to the toilet, letting me do my business.

Back in my dungeon she put my muzzle-gag on me and the bondage collar back on my neck and chained me to that chain hanging down from the ceiling. And there I was, completely helpless again. But after our friends-time I felt so good to be back into helplessness. If I ever could think of her as not to be my 24/7 Mistress?

I was ripped out of my thoughts by some fast Pop music from the eighties and the nineties. She took her riding crop, hit her palm with a loud smack and ordered, "dance for me slave, and especially roll your hips to the rhythm! And do not dare to be ever lazy about it."

This now was hard for me. It is easy to act passively, which is just to react and feel. But dancing for somebody, even my Mistress, that was different. But I had to get used to that. So I tried my very best. And the Benwas immediately took their toll on me. By dancing I drove me up into my utmost tantalizing arousal again. With my growing arousal, with rolling my hips and the music I sometimes was in some kind of flow state that carried me away.

"Slave", I heard her voice call me, but I somehow did not react. I was in flow.

"Slave", and a hard blow got down onto my right breast. That brought me back to reality immediately. It was a really hard blow, it did hurt.

"Slave", she said, "your Mistress will do the dish-washing now, as ridiculous as that may ever sound. You dance until told otherwise. Maybe I will check on you, maybe not. I advise you not to do anything stupid. Nod yes my little-one."

I nodded yes

Then she came close and whispered "and little-one, if you lose balance, there will be no harm to you. There is also a chain on your back. Perhaps you did not notice, but it will hold you up. You will not choke, okay?"

I nodded yes thankfully and tried to get back into my flow again. I even did not have a fucking care about the Benwas, I was just fantasizing about my tomorrow orgasms. I was going behind the carrot again - and I loved it.

Shortly before I was about enter the lunacy of lust again she ordered "stop" and I tried to stand still immediately. However, this abrupt stop made me losing some balance and she was by me with a big step and kept me from falling. She loosened the chains holding me to the ceiling, walked me to the bed and ordered me to lay down. She again loosened only one bond after the other, tying me to the bed spread-eagled. The water underneath was in heavy waves from the both of us moving on the sheet. She got up again and I followed her with my eyes. She looked back in a fast turn-around and I instantly turned my eyes to the ceiling where they should be.

"So you are into snooping little-one. But we would not snoop again, would we pet. You do not want to make your Mistress angry, do you pet."

I shook my head no, eyes strictly up to the ceiling. When she came back she held a blindfold in her hands.

"This will help you to obey, my sweetie. Mistress does everything she can to not have the sad duty to punish you little-one."

With that she produced the blindfold beneath the leather-straps that held the muzzle gag bound to my forehead and tightened it as far as possible behind my head. I felt some weak stream of air right in front of me. She was obviously testing my reactions. She seemed to be satisfied. Then she sat her down on my corset, her legs kneeling left and right besides me, she obviously bowing down over me, grabbing behind me and loosening my bra. How she sat on me felt so wonderful. She raised herself up again and left the bed. For a farewell she kicked the mattress hard, such that the bed wobbled in strong waves.

A waterbed takes a long time to calm down completely, because the waves have no way else to go. They become scattered back and forth, and only eventually will dim away. A waterbed with a body on it will even calm down much slower, because the body will inevitable move somewhat, even if it tries it's best to not move. In this case, that was me. The Benwas were rising me slowly but steadily to the edge again, and I knew that this would be not enough to send me over. I was trapped again, with no way out. My tries to lay calm were of little success, because any calmness immediately stored up energy in my extremities, condensing there from my tormented cunt. This stored energy then spread out over the whole body as a feeling of unbearable heat, such that I had no choice but to struggle or to get mad instantly. But as this struggles were more like a reflex than willingly done motions, they were so intense, that the released energy immediately transformed itself into water waves again. This was a vicious circle. If I stayed calm I was soon forced into intense struggles, when I not stayed calm, I was producing waves anyway. It is an induced restless legs syndrome, typical for bondage situations. I was tormenting myself, and I could not stop it.

I do not know for how long I have laid there, to one half luxuriating my sexual desperation and helplessness, half cursing on my cruel Mistress, as I suddenly felt a light stream of air at my erect nipples. When you are blind your senses work different from normal. I looked left and right, which was of course useless, highly alert. Nothing. And back I was, immersed in my mad state of arousal. After some while here it seemed to be again, a slight stream of air. I took my head up, of course to no avail, and tried to tow at my bonds. Now I was really alert. But nothing again. I tried to hear. Nothing either. But now I was diving up from my utter state and tried to be as alert as possible. And I waited. And there it was again, a slight stream of air, this time at my cunt, despite that damned chastity belt I could feel it. And nothing again. And no sound. Was I about to really go mad? Did I already hallucinate?

I of course knew that my nipples and my cunt, sweaty and juicy as they were, enhanced by my blindness, would be hyper-sensitive by now. After some while had gone by I thought to feel this mysterious airstream at my face, near the ears. As I still heard nothing I was sure to hallucinate. As my ears were hyper-sensitive too, because of my lacking sight, I now was sure to hallucinate.

"Nooo", I moaned into my gag and twisted and struggled and trashed in my bonds. That was too much now. Again I felt my utter and relentless helplessness. And I wanted out. I so definitely wanted out that I was even about sacrifice this wonderful orgasm that would wash over me tomorrow afternoon. Now I was in real bondage again, like yesterday.

The sensation of these air-streams went on for some while, always with a changing length of intervals of time, when sometime I felt an itch on my left thigh.

"Nooooo", I moaned out as loud as possible. But of course I just made a somewhat mute gurgling. Under my gag I was already dripping from saliva, which too was not very helpful. And by my trashing, of course, I evoked the waterbed. Now I struggled around driven by my arousal and the itch. And soon I felt an airstream near my breasts and an utter itch right on my right nipple. How hyper-sensitive this nipple was goes without say.

"Nooooooooooo, please mercy Mistress", I tried to cry out, with the known effects, that means none. And I trashed around even more, because I so desperately wanted to rub these itches away. This of course evoked that waterbed even more and thus the Benwas. And another itch at my left shoulder. In vain I tried to rub it away with my head. I did not reach it. As hyper-sensation plays funny games with your mind I soon felt the itches to spread out over my whole body, sometimes tingling, sometimes itching. And it was completely at random. Thus I was sure to hallucinate. And I cried and moaned out as loud as I could to send word to my Mistress.

After what seemed to be like an eternity, I heard her heels click-clacking and she came in. (She had been there all the time, playing with air-streams and itchy powder).

"So you are enjoying yourself, little-one. Oh, you are really trashing around. How hot you must be by now." And she giggled. "You are really a living sex-toy my dear little pet."

I desperately tried to muffle to her what I was about, but of course..... .

She came near, sat down besides me and softly stroke my breasts. "Let's see what we can do about it pet", she said. Completely unabashed, her hands went down to my chastity belt. The belt clicked and off it went.

"You should try your best to keep your Benwas in sweetie, shouldn't you", came her voice as softly as ever.

And then I felt something cold and obviously metallic to enter my pussy, a dildo.

"Noooooooo", I moaned out as loud as ever possible.

"I see you like it girl. So loud a moaning, mymymy."

And to add to all that this dildo sprang to life and relentlessly teased me with low vibrations - far to low of course. The vibrations trashed, as it felt to me, the Benwas around and spread to the butt plug, which vibrated back. I never have been in such a real and utterly helpless bondage before, I never had felt such an unbearable arousal and I never had felt...., no, it was completely without words. My brain was slowing down again.

And then there was a stroke at my left shoulder. Or was it not? As the stroke moved down along my tingling, itching, so hyper-sensitive body I felt that it was real. It started to pet me softly, becoming harder and suddenly a blow came down on one of my nipples. I did not even notice on which one, they felt like one large nipple already.

The riding crop again. "Noooooooo". She ignored me completely.

"So soft", she whispered, "so soft and enticing, and so hard" and another blow came down, this time on my cunt, and caressing instantly on the very same spot. And like at my first whipping, I did not even feel the slightest pain. Blow or caress, it felt all the same, only with different intensity. She was playing me like a violin, the crop the fiddlestick again. And, as my arousal still raised up to ever new and new heights, my apparent lunacy did too.

Like in our first whipping session, she ping-ponged me up and down, back and forth and as I finally gave up all resistance I was just feeling, consuming, luxuriating in this complete utter state out of this world. I drifted in deep subspace and saw stars passing me by, then galaxies and then I was in that deep black void of nothing, that makes the largest part of our universe. And I felt such a deep bliss that, after that agonizing, tantalizing, relentless torment, this alone felt like a long, eternal orgasm. But I did never passed out. I even felt fully alert, totally awake in my void. I was the universe and the universe was me.

After what time ever I began to dive up again. I felt a warm body snuggled close to me, an arm around me. It was her. No blindfold anymore. I felt that my gag was taken out and that I was free of my bonds, the chastity belt and the Benwas. I was fully me again, with full control over my body and my mind. Still dizzy, still somewhat hypnotized, but I belonged to myself again. I turned over to her and saw tears in her eyes. As she saw that I was there again, she caressed my face with her palms and said, "thank you my dear little-one. You cannot imagine the present you have made to me."

I was stunned, because I did not understand what she was about.

"Sorry Mistress", I replied, forgetting completely about my forbidden speech. "You made a present to me."

"Yes my dear", she replied, "but I just thought about not to have met you. I was in such utter despair in these two years without a slave - and now you are with me."

I also put her head in my palms and we kissed greedily. After we had breastfed our thirst for kisses, she raised up and ordered me to do so, too. She supported me while walking me into the bathroom, where she shackled me to the spreader bar again, almost excusing this, but she had to ensure that I would not collapse, exhausted as I was. She thought about everything.

She showered me and dried me off. After the shower I felt very good. And I felt something strange. My level of arousal had reclined, but to a point that now already felt like normal. I was still worked up highly, but I could not even imagine to be without this again. It was already a result of my training, I was already adjusting, I was about to be conditioned, successfully.

"I remind you about that you are forbidden to speak or to ask for permission to, yes little-one", she said with so much care in her voice that I could have cried with joy.

I nodded yes Mistress.

"Do you need the toilette", she asked. I shook my head no.

"I have to put you in the chastity belt again pet, is that okay"; she asked. I nodded yes instantly. Now I too did not want to take any chance that would ruin my tomorrow orgasms.

"And sweetie, would you like to spend the evening as an almost free girl, or shall I put you in the straightjacket right now?"

My head nodded towards the straightjacket at once. She smiled.

For the evening we again saw a movie. However, not me. I had my head on her lap, looking up to her, my Mistress, my legs spread out on the sofa, and she feeding me with some chocolate and sips of orange juice. And eventually we smoked a cigarette together.

We went to bed early, exhausted as both we were. Well, maybe I was somewhat much more exhausted. She did not tie my ankles to the bed-frame. Beneath the latex-sheet we snuggled close and entangled our legs with each others. She held me in her arms and we sank down into sleep instantly.

The next morning, she again woke me up with her kisses. I again had my now already normal bathroom and breakfast routine, she nursing and feeding me. Then, in my full slave's outfit, my hands in mittens tied to my waist and thus completely useless, I sat in a wooden chair in her living-room. My thighs were tied together with a leather-band, and so were my calves and my ankles. She had laid down a Hitachi on my lap. My ever carrot. So near and still so far away. This alone raised me up again, greedy for release as ever.

While I sat there, fantasizing of how it would be after my extensive arousal-training I watched her cleaning her apartment thoroughly. She dusted the cupboards and the shelves, vacuumed the floors, cleaned the kitchen, the bathroom and my dungeon with utmost care. Eventually she came over to me, sat besides me on the sofa and smoked a cigarette for a break. As I was gagged, there was no smoking for me. But she took care to exhale the smoke away from me. After her second break, she took the Hitachi and moved it under the leather-belt that held my thighs together. And moved it towards, well towards that very region where my clit should have been, if it not had been shielded by this devious chastity belt. I looked up to her. Her face was priceless, her eyes glittering, flaming in this predatory glance again. She moved the carrot closer, but still so much out of reach as if it would be away some light-years. I moaned out loud and struggled all over.

"Do not struggle too much little-one. It could so easily slip out again, couldn't it girl."

She went about her housework again.

When she came back pausing somewhat later, she again smoked besides me. But this time, she exhaled in my very direction. After finishing her cigarette she took on the dangling cord of the Hitachi and put it into a socket close by. My eyes went wide, they even felt as to pop out. But her glittering eyes just laughed about me, her little plaything, totally helpless in her utter need to cum. What was she knowing how to do it.

For her next break, she again smoked her cigarette, tormenting me with exhaling into my direction, making me longing for a cigarette, too. And then, out of a sudden, she produced another leather band from somewhere and fastened it directly above my knees, such than the Hitachi was now held by two leather-straps. I again looked up to her, totally puzzled. I tried to remind her that the chastity belt was still on, but of course I only muffled some unintelligible sounds. She stroke softly through my hair.

"Just you wait little-one." And her face glittered all over. It was clear that she was about to do something very mean. And by now, I could already guess what.

The cleaning, maybe, took some three hours, in which she had expertly fed me up with my carrot, becoming closer and closer, but still so completely out of reach. Instead of fucking my cunt, she fucked my brain. And, expertly as she always did it, it took it's toll on me. And my complete helplessness rolled over me again, adding to my arousal. And again this was bondage for real.

After the cleaning seemed to be done she came back, some leather-straps in her hands. What?, I asked myself, as if I would not already be helpless as possible. But surely I was not. She bound my already useless legs to the base of the chair, such that they could not move sideways anymore. Then bands went around below and above my breasts to be bound and towed tightly behind the chair. Now I could not even move an inch. My body again was totally taken away from me, completely out of reach - as was the Hitachi in my lap. Unabashed she sat down on the sofa, put her legs on it and smoked another cigarette. Her eyes only on me. She ate me up with her greedy predatory eyes, glittering allover, luxuriating in my total slavery, about me being completely at her mercy. A light fog of smoke between us. My head also started to fog.

Then she took up the weekends newspaper from the table and immersed herself into it, holding the pages up high, as I would not be there at all. Eventually she smoked behind the newspaper, muffling that and that as some commentary about the articles.

And then the Hitachi suddenly broke to life. As I had observed this my very carrot since she had put it in between my thighs, I had observed it like nothing else. It was set on low. But also on low, this joystick can be very intense. Actually, set on high it is nearly unbearable on the clit, if set right on from the beginning of a, say treatment. The vibrations instantly spread around my inner thighs and trough the steel-bands of my chastity belt, and thus also right along that metal dildo I had buried in my cunt. There the Benwas' went to happy life and tossed slightly around my sensual inner space. But as ever so mean, despite the Hitachi was positioned right at the spot where my ever so throbbing clit would have been, there was absolutely nothing to feel. That oh ever so damned chastity belt was constructed intently in this way.

I was about trashing and struggling in my bonds instantly, but I could not move an inch. The sensations continued to spread out along my so sensitive inner thighs, reviving the Benwas that instantly drove me mad again, and around my metal waistband as if it would be a cruel embrace.

Like yesterday on the waterbed, I felt energy building up in me, besides building towards orgasm, fast. And this energy wants to be released by motion. But if you cannot move the slightest little-bit, then you are in for heat building up in your body, unbearable heat. And so it was. Unbearable heat, together with building and soon unbearable arousal of heights and of intensity as I never had felt before. My yesterdays arousal was nothing against this. And certainly because my very carrot was so close and still so so far away.

I moaned, I trashed, I struggled, I pleaded as good as I could. Eventually she said behind her newspaper, not even putting down the pages.

"Would you mind pet to make some less noise, your Mistress wants to read her newspaper. You pet have no idea how exhausting it is to always care about you. Be a nice little-one and grant your Mistress this hour yes, would you pet."

My eyes popped up wide. An hours? A full hour of that. Noooooooooo!

I certainly have been in much more than an hour yesterday. But when you know about the time, it seems to be much longer than without that knowledge. Knowledge just increases the slave's helplessness.

Now I was really in. A Hitachi vibrating me mad relentlessly, without the slightest chance to cum, and I was even forbidden to moan. This added cruelly to my enforced immobility. I was taken away from my body as never before.

Suddenly the Hitachi stopped, leaving me breathing heavily. After I had gained back some sanity I looked towards the socket. It was a timer-socket.

It was just an ordinary timer-socket, allowing defined intervals, five minutes a minimum. The advanced devices some stories were about are all fantasy. I had searched the net all around the world, but I did not find such devices. For electronic nerds it was certainly possible to built something like advanced timers with real random functions or whatever, but no not electronic nerd person could ever do this.

At some time the Hitachi popped to life again and again teared me down into my oblivion of arousal and helplessness, that fed each other like sisters.

When a stimulation stops and pops on again somewhat later, the sensitivity has increased, and the stimulation has an even deeper effect. And that was her game with me.

As far as I could think I got the impression that the Hitachi stayed on for a longer time. And off for a longer time. But this still increased the sensitivity, with nowhere to go as to the point were it already was throbbing.

At some point, were I was in deep despair from the unreachable joystick between my legs, she came up behind her newspaper and looked over to me.

"How are you my little-one. You are so quiet. Anything wrong girl?"

My obedience was about to break down again. My eyes sent daggers on her. She shook her head as if in pity and slowly moved over to me. She knelt down on my lap, spreading her legs such that she also could feel the Hitachi. But for her it worked.

"You see, my little-one, this is my driving you silly mode." With increasing intensity of her breaths she explained to me what that meant. At first five minutes on, than five off, then ten on and ten off, then fifteen on and fifteen off. Than decreasing again and increasing again. And as she explained that she began to move heavily on me, pressing deep onto me. As she also was hot as hell, it took not much to drive her over the edge. She came with an obviously massive orgasm - and she came directly on me, me forced to watch her feasting. She came so close that her bosom covered my face. I had difficulties to breath. After she was done, she stayed, still kneeling on me as if thinking if should take one more. And she did.

"I cannot understand my pet why it does not work for you. Look and learn from your Mistress, it is so easy, isn't it little-one." And with this she went on, she took the next wave that was grabbing her between her legs and raised again. This time it took her longer, but that made it all worse for me. Her warmth so close, her bosom so close, her wetness so close, her breath so heavy, her movements on my lap so heavy and so close and her teasing about how easy it would be to cum on a Hitachi. My utter real bondage situation increased to never so felt heights - feeding, of course, my arousal up to the very same heights.

Her orgasm was even more massive this time. She literally earthquaked on me.

"Yes my pet", she whispered exhausted and blissful, you are truly a living sex-toy. Thank you so much."

Then she stood up again, putting herself back into composure. "I let you practice while I make us something for lunch. You have permission to orgasm my pet, and Mistress would be very disappointed if you would not obey, yes, little-one." And of she got.

I was, as far as I could ever be in my state, completely speechless behind my gag. Where does she take all this from?

At least I was relieved about that the orgasm play now had begun. It could only be about some hours until my time would come. "HOURS", I sighed. Nooooooooo!

As she had given me order to orgasm, I tried my very best, but it was useless. And the more I tried to evoke it in my mind, the worse it became for my body. Every try to concentrate myself on orgasm only, additionally to all other things that tantalized me, increased my need for it, but certainly not the vibrations on my clit.

She had left me on my own for the whole cycle to go through. As it increased again she came back and asked "have you pet. I did not hear anything." I shook my head no and again sent daggers on her. She just pitied me and said, "okay little-one, I show you once more. But if you then are still stubborn about it, I must teach you a lesson, yes, pet. Orgasm is so important for your health and your sanity while being in treatment, isn't it, pet. We would no let you go mad with all that arousal that has built up in you, would we, pet."

And by this she had just put my helplessness up to a new floor in this skyscraper of helplessness I had already been on the rooftop - as I had thought. And hand in hand with sister arousal I went up the levels.

After she had cum a third time while kneeling on my lap she put my face into her palms.

"But now Mistress has really shown you, right pet. I let you try an additional full cycle while I stay on the balcony and have my sunbath. The door will be closed little-one, you make far too much noise. What just the neighbours might think about you. Mymymymy. Good luck my pet, see you soon."

I could see her luxuriating on the balcony, before I fell back deep into my own world of torment and needyness. I could not even hold my eyes open. And of course, I would not orgasm.

After some time, how long ever, I heard her chatting with the neighbours on the next balcony. "Sorry for the noise, but my sister brought her children", she lied. "But you know how stubborn and misbehaving", and with that she glanced back on me, "children sometimes can be. In elder times they certainly now would have been in for a good spanking", and she again glanced on me, "but you know how it is. All this shit about psychology and pedagogy, where shall this ever lead to." Obviously the neighbours agreed eagerly, and she laid down on her sun lounger again.

My eyes had gone wide open as she had said the word spanking. She certainly would not... . Or would she?

After it was about time, she left the balcony and joined me in my dark world again.

"Mistress is so hot from the sun", she teased, "that Mistress cannot resist to have her fourth time with you, pet." And with that she did what she wanted to do. However, she set the Hitachi on high. I jolted up as far as my bonds would allow it, not much though, and she rode me again. It took her even longer this time until she earthquaked over me.

"Now Mistress is but very angry with you pet, did I not order you at least one..." she suddenly was silent. Then she came close again and palmed my head. "Oh my dear little sweet little-one pet, what have I done to you? Oh my good am I sorry for you. I indeed forgot to free you from that chastity belt. Can you ever forgive me pet?"

I was so washed away that I indeed shook my head no. But I was sorry for this misbehaviour instantly, with no possibility to apologize. A gag can render you so helpless. If you behave, all is good. If you don't, you have not even a possibility to apologize.

But she understood me very well and thus ignored my flagrant rebelliousness. And I was indeed thankful for this. She switched off the Hitachi, took it away and loosened my bonds. She took me up and walked me to my dungeon and to the St. Andrews cross.

"Here sweetie you can moan as loud as you can sweetie. The walls are padded, no noise will leave your home pet."

Again, only extremity after extremity, I was released from my standard bondage and then bound to the St. Andrews cross, were it has once all begun for me. And again at my ankles, my calves, my thighs, my waist, below and above my breasts, upper arms, lower arms and wrists. As if this would not have been enough, she also fixed the eyelet on the head-band of my muzzle-gag to the cross. No utter movement possible.

Then she took a stand over to me, where a Hitachi was fixed at the top. I sighed in relief. Now my time would come, at last. She took away the chastitybelt and instantly, before the ever so wet Benwas could drop out, she shifted the head of the Hitachi between my lips into my cunt. God felt that good! But what about my throbbing clit. She would not..., not resume my utter torment. No, she would not. I saw her to carry a second stand, where also a Hitachi was fixed to. This one she put directly on my clit and I sighed in such a relief that my eyes watered.

Then, encouragingly, she explained, "the stands stay safe and secure, so do not worry. They remain where I have put them. But", and she grinned and her eyes glittered again, "maybe, after some while pet, you perhaps might wish they would move."

As far as these words could enter my foggy state, I could hardly believe this. No way I thought. Finally my time. And only mine.

She moved over to the bed, placed herself on lazily and took something like a remote-control in her hands. "I shall now check if everything is at it's right place little-one."

I nodded eagerly. I could not wait her to finally stop talking and sending me off into space. She switched on the cunt vibe, which immediately hammered against my so swollen and sensitive lips and let the Benwas dance inside me. She switched off and asked me with her eyes. I eagerly nodded yes. Then the clit-vibe. Within nanoseconds this one sent shock-waves of pure ecstasy all over my body. Off it got and she asked again. Eagerly I nodded yes. Now shut up Mistress and rocket me up, pleeease!

Then she told me, tantalizingly speaking as slowly as she could, that both Hitachis were to be steered by a timer-socket.

"Mistress is sure that her girl appreciates her choice. Have fun girl. Enjoy. You have earned it pet."

And with that both of the Hitachis were switched on and off I got, rocketing up to outer space in an instant.

I had expected that I would orgasm instantly, but I was wrong. My sex was so, let's say overheated, that at first my clit only seemed to be sore and without much feeling. But it mysteriously throbbed for attention. And attention she got enough by now. As I already began to think that something would out of order but this suddenly turned around and the first tsunami came down on me and ripped me away into an earthquaking oblivion. But as the stimulation thankfully went on, my second orgasm hit me subsequently, and without any kind of afterglow my so dying of thirst flesh was relished again. And, unbelievably, this happened also a third time, completely in sequence. And I got the impression that the intensity was increasing, not decreasing. However, after the third tsunami I seemed to be done for now, but as the stimulation went on, my sex took only a small nap and then switched on again and I was building. God was I building - and building. And edging. I was in sheer and unbelievable bliss. Now I fully understood my Mistress. And I promised to myself that I would never ever play with the thought to chicken out again. How stupid this would have been. And how poor, how sceptical.

My bliss was interrupted because the vibes switched off. What head I just sworn I thought, and now? She saw it instantly, but she calmed me down.

"The socket gives you five minutes a rest, sweetie. You need this break in order to ride the wave again when it switches back on. You still have a long way to go little-one."

Besides my still so unbelievable needyness I knew that she was right. I had to pause. I was so aroused still that I had not to fear that I would calm down in ridiculously five minutes. So I tried to luxuriate in the feeling of my collapsing helplessness and fantasized about the orgasms to come. Suddenly this helplessness was no unforgiving torment anymore, but wordless bliss. And that aroused me again.

As the socket switched the vibes on again, I all at once was back on that edge I had been before my enforced break. The crawl towards the very edge had already slowed down a bit, but I only appreciated this because the following orgasm would be much more intense in it's contractions. The steam was out of the bottle now and the best was still to cum. I only worried about that the stimulation cycle would be long enough, but I trusted my Mistress. She knew what she was doing. She was laying on the bed and watched me in some unbelieving amazement. This was her girl. Yes, this was her girl.

And I was building - and edging - and building and edging - and building and edging towards.... .The intensity of my inner contractions hit me like a whip lightening down on my clit. I felt the muscles of my vagina literally grab the Benwas and toss them around in me. The strain that was set free by these contractions was so completely deep space that my then Rigel orgasms felt like a squib. I was no star anymore, I was a Magnetar.

A Magnetar is a dying star of completely unimaginable violence and beauty. The strain on it's surface is about infinity. When the surface eventually crackles a beam of ultra-hard gamma-rays is emitted that literally kills everything in it's way. The first cycle of life on this earth was killed by such a gamma-beam. And a beam nearly had got us in 2004, passing by just far enough. The earth's magnetic field was crashed for the fraction of a second, satellites broke down or went out of order suddenly. But the sun got the better part - a magnetic hick-up for the rest of the year. Perhaps you remember the news of this year. But of course they concealed the gamma-beam. I am a really mean girl to tell you this, aren't I? The milky-way hosts 3 of these monsters, by present knowledge, in about a 60,000 light-years distance to us - and that is still enough to blow us away when a beam, properly focused, runs into our direction.

I was a Magnetar now, I radiated hard gamma-rays. And I was already straining again.

Eventually the vibes switched off again. Who knows how long they had been on. I was hanging in my bonds, breathing so heavily that Mistress came up to me and asked if everything would be okay. I nodded to her with tears of joy in my eyes and I smiled behind my gag as I had never smiled before. Although I had already strained again, build again and nearly edged again, I was glad for this break.

"My good sweet little-one, my precious pet", she said without any teasing in her voice, "I never had believed what I have yet heard and seen if not with my own eyes and ears." She stroked through my sweat-wet hair and kissed me an my forehead.

But I also had noticed that I began to cool down a little. How the fuck I thought. Two days of exquisite and relentless torment of arousal, and after four, although exquisite, orgasms I am already done? Well, not yet - not yet! As Mistress was walking back to the bed the vibes switched on again. But despite I was ready as anything to take up the challenge, it still took some time, a long time in my perception, to strain and to build up again. Not that I was already done, certainly not, but perhaps it was my exhaustion. However, the longer it takes, the more tantalizing it is, and thus the explosion the better. The way up was a slow crawl, agonizing and fiendish. I did my best to push me forward with my fantasies, but it did not help. I approached extremely slowly. I felt like edging was an eternity. Not that this would not have been an outstanding torment, but it was just about to long. And then the vibes switched off again. But I had been too close to remain on the edge and I tumbled down in cataclysms of a completely ruined orgasm. I moaned and cried, trashing in my bonds, but I would not move an inch. I was so throbby and itchy from this catastrophe that I instantly and desperately needed to rub me up and over again.

As I had cooled down a bit I saw that Mistress was at her place on the bed, watching me closely, but without any movement. Was there a grin on her face - no! Do not come up with such silly fantasies stupid girl, I called myself to order. It is your time now. Just concentrate on your desires, then all will cum by itself.

As throbby and itchy as I was - when the vibes switched on again it was only a sprint back onto the edge. But on the edge it was slowly again, but steady. Yes I thought, this is just about right. Not too fast, but not too slow also. When I eventually came, it was no gamma-beam anymore, how ever could it be, but still something close to a Rigel. When I was floating in the afterglow I felt such a deep relief as if all the sexual torment of the two days before never would have happened. I was done. God was I done. The vibes still went on. I moaned notice to Mistress that I was done and that she could switch off. She came up to me and laid on hand on one of my shoulders.

"Are you okay girl?" I nodded an eager Yes Mistress.

"Are you done girl?" Again I nodded an eager Yes Mistress.

"So should I switch off the vibes, little-one?" Nodding Yes Mistress.

"Well pet. Isn't it astonishing that two days of exquisite sexual torment do only take for five orgasms to relax. Let's ignore the ruined one, yes pet? I indeed cannot believe this. And I am not amused girl. All that work that I have invested into your arousal, all that time that it took to prepare your session - and you think you can get away with five orgasms. Don't you think that this is ridiculous, do you girl! No, this is not acceptable - not at all. At least girl, you shall have five more. Then we shall look ahead! Understand pet? And anyhow, didn't you confess to me that you wanted to be forced, did you, pet. And Mistress makes you this present. Here you go, little-one."

And there she was again, that fiendish predator. The Mistress I had surrendered to, that owned me. Playtime was over and slavery in for real again.

As the full meaning of her words fully hit my brain I was in sheer panic. I trashed with all the might my completely bound body would allow me. But she just smiled on me and stroke my face. Off she went to her bed and literally began to luxuriate on it, watching me closely all the time.

And there I went again. And bondage was never so real as now. Thinking back to the event where this feeling first hit me, Friday evening - compared to where I was in now - Kindergarten.

And completely inevitable this strange mixture of fear, complete helplessness, arousal and torment began to build up again in me, nourishing each other. Four sisters playing ping-pong with my mind and my body. The vibe in my brain was now much more intense than the vibe in my cunt.

Of course she was right, I wanted to be forced. But fantasizing about to be forced and to be forced for real - this is a completely different thing. Being forced to orgasm is maybe on top of all non-violating games that Dommes and subs can play with each other, except extremely hard whipping. After hard whipping and forced orgasms, there is only crime to be found. At least in my opinion.

And when forced orgasms are played with me, who I am going off easy anyway, than this still adds to it. Despite the anatomy of the clit allows for continuous stimulation in principal, the mind must walk in, too. And my mind did, completely out of my control. It was like in this first extreme adventure I had played. Now I was completely remote-controlled, with no way out, with no way around, helpless, delivered, completely at the mercy of my tormenter. God, this made me so hot again. After my brain was able, while becoming foggy, to work all this through I only began to understand. What has been so far was just the overture, nice, but done by free will - and completely for my pleasure. And now Mistress demanded her part of it - and with full right, because I was hers totally. Her property. She had granted me spare-time, and now she was back into play. Now the symphony was to cum.

Instantly I knew that it would be the best to surrender at once. But this is easier said than done. I tried to let go and fall down, but I was not yet ripe to let go. I was still struggling.

While these thoughts run through my brain with the speed of light, the two vibes were completely out of sight. But as thought was over, they came back - and how they came back.

As in my first extreme adventure, it felt different now. There was no pleasure, no comfort in the vibrations on the first hand. It was strong, it was violent, it was demanding and inescapable. But behind this curtain were the fields of Elysium, of bliss and of, yes, of complete satisfaction and sanity.

The vibrations grabbed me with her claws and dragged me ahead, willing or not. And I was not yet willing. But my struggles only made it worse, because it demonstrated to me, with each struggle, with each twist, with each trash how completely helpless I was. And than I built again.

As time became only an illusion now, I have no idea how long it took me up and how long I was there and when I exploded down again. I only felt the massive demanding violence that fiddled my body like a mad violinist, but there was no time left. Maybe it happened altogether and fast, maybe only in slow-motion and wide apart from each other. As time was without meaning, so also words were without sense.

And I surrendered completely in the very moment I ceased to try to surrender. And then I was in pure bliss, in deep space, but different. The deep space in the overture was an empty void except me drifting in it. Now it was filled with bubbles of tongues that licked all over my tingling body.

Each time I felt me approaching, there suddenly was that one thought in my else so empty mind: your are bound to that very cross girl. Your cross. And that washed me over the edge like a waterfall.

At some point the vibes switched off, my body was loosened from the cross and carried to the bed. The gag came off and I just laid there. I still was in heaven, far away. She laid besides me and watched me with pure sympathy, pure amazement and, yes, pure love in her eyes. We both were happy, satisfied and done with our game. There was nothing left to play, except one thing. After my head had cleared again, after I was back again in this world, she hinted me with her eyes that one thing was still missing. At first I was puzzled, but then it came to me. She stood up and I followed her. Standing opposite to each other in front of the bed, I spoke.

"This girl asks for permission to kneel, Mistress."

"You have permission to kneel, little-one."

And I knelt down , sitting on my lower legs and locking up like a well-trained pet.

"This girl asks for permission to thank her Mistress."

"You have permission girl", she said with a trembling voice, controlled only with utmost power.

And I bowed down deep to lick her feet, whispering "thank you Mistress, Thank you so much."

After she had luxuriated in me licking her feet she said, "up you go pet", and I stood up immediately.

"Game over", she asked.

I nodded yes and leaned my body at hers. "At least for today" I said and closed my eyes, still drifting in pleasure and bliss.

After we had our shower together we sat in the kitchen and ate the fruit-salad she had prepared for us at noon-time. And talked about the session. With some remorse I unveiled to her that more than once I was about to chicken out while we were playing. That it sometimes was about to be too much. And that I had learned so much on this weekend. I had learned what real bondage is, what real domination is and what real helplessness is, real torment and real deliverance.

"But you were only just about, yes?" she asked. I nodded.

"Well, I chose this pace, because you already were a bondagee, and you already were into orgasm-play. I would never have dared to do such things with a complete newbie. However, at some points, well, I also was unsure if it would not be too much. But I always decided against this thoughts. First because I knew that you are strong and can take it. Second I wanted nothing less than to bore you. And anyhow, your thoughts about chicken out are completely normal. This has nothing to do with lacking obedience. It is just a normal reaction of the logical part of the brain. It is a sign that the bondage is good. You are only in bondage when you want out, your words. But let me assure you. The more real sessions you will experience, the more this logic interference will become silent."

I nodded yes. "Maybe I just have to get used to this. It was my first time of completely losing control over my body, and even my mind. But I think I have learned some lessons this week-end. I feel about to be conditioned. And it feels good."

She smiled. "Then it will only become better and better and better."

"How far can you go. I mean, is any enhancement still possible", I asked stunned.

"Well", she said, "concerning the bondage part, we are already near the top. There are just a few things left, a mono-glove or a vacuum-bed. You can tie a pair of elbows only once, understand?"

I nodded, and somehow I must have locked disappointed.

"No Andrea, no need for being sad. There still are a lot of possibilities. Your arousal-training, believe it or not, has an open-end scale, the whip also. Not to say your orgasm-training. You had eight today, that is incredible. Eight really powerful ones."

"But you ordered me ten", I said, suddenly even more disappointed.

"Don't be upset, please. I had to stop it, you were completely away from this world, in deep subspace. Please do not argue about this. It is my utmost duty to care about your needs. I swore it, and I keep it."

I nodded. And I tried my best not to say Mistress in our friendly conversation.

"We could certainly do something about your outfit if you like. You could become a rubber-doll or something else. Think about it. But please, step by step and not all at once, yes!"

"Yes", Mistress I thought for myself.

"Andrea", she began, "you know that you will be kept in chastity for the next two weeks again?"

"Yes, I know. I even look forward to it."

"I think that you probably will not be in much need to orgasm, after today, right?"

I grinned. "Who knows, who knows."

"No, please come on, this is serious."

I tried to make a serious face and nodded yes.

"Try if you can go without your nipples. If this is not possible, you are allowed to. If you do feel aroused, but, say, in a controlled way, than this is a sign that the first step is already done. And Andrea, our next session will be in two weeks, yes."

I nodded yes eagerly. "Could we, I mean could we do something aside from our play, I mean like going to the movies etc.?" I asked.

"But of course, I would like this very much."

We stayed the evening together. As it was about time I left for my apartment.

After one last cigarette I went to bed and fell into a deep dark slumber.

7. The lonely rich girl

For the next three years our play evolved into a real kinky lovers relationship. I became a happy rubber-doll under the spell of my Mistress. Once she said teasingly, that, if she was into slave-trade, she would really get the best ever prices for me.

To my surprise, it was not even hard to keep my private and my real life separated from each other. My kinky needs got served with the utmost exquisiteness, and after a weekend I was so spent, that I did not even think of playing until the next time was ordered. But there was this one little thing that was still missing. And at sometime I started to wait for it. When would she ask me to move in with her to become her 24/7 girl. But nothing came. Thus I waited until my PhD was done.

After my PhD-thesis was finished I became a Doctor of Physics. However, I did not really know about what to do with it. Yes, I had found out a little bit, but most of my results were about what would not work. Basically, this is very valuable information, but as science has evolved into a business as everything else has done, it is only the winner who takes it all. And in this case, I was definitely not a winner. I was an utter loser. Maybe I could try my luck and trust my brains and go for a postdoc position, but I did not really like this idea. I liked my subject, yes, but I liked my private life much more. Being a postdoc would mean to move around the world, from university to university, in the utter hope to get good scientific results and, sometimes, the desired professorship, if ever. And moving would mean every one or two years, or, if you got it wrong, every half or quarter of a year. Additionally you are paid ridiculously low a salary compared to all the knowledge and abilities you bring in. I am certainly not about money, except spending it, because it is useless when you are gone, but all this boundary conditions did not fit with my secret life. I could not move around with all my goodies. They had grown to large in number. I would have to store them somewhere - and what should I do without my goodies. And what should I do without my Mistress? It would be as I would be ripped to pieces.

Consequently, I decided to leave science. But I had no further ideas so far and so I had to announce me unemployed at the social support administrations and waited for..., for whatever was to come. Times of relaxed money supply had now been over, as the unemployed's support is of course not very high. To have a little extra money, I again did a cleaning job, but without telling the administrations. This was black money, yes, but I somehow had no remorse about it. When they encash your taxes they would not let you a single half of a penny more as they can take away. And as taxes are very high in Germany, I just thought that I now had the chance to get back some of this stolen money. Thinking back my whole life I got the idea that I never have had much remorse, if any. I was a true immoralist, well, in some aspects! I could lie without blushing.

She and me got on with our sessions. And I waited patiently if she would ask me to move in with her. Or should I ask? Looking back I found that it had always been me who was behind her, behind to becoming her slave etc. I almost had stalked her to allow me to call her Mistress. But I did not dare to ask. Something told me that I should wait. Of course she had always held the carrot in font of me. This time there was no carrot.

Adding to all that, the financial crises laid in it's wake, such that it was very difficult for me to find job offers that would match my educational levels. And in Dresden there were no good jobs at all. BenQ, a spin-off from Siemens was about to go bankrupt - and that it was. Full-time cleaning was also not an option for a PhD! But I was also not really looking for jobs either. I waited for her to order me in and take me home, as she had already taken me as her play-pet.

At some day I accidentally stumbled over an announcement of a Swiss bank. It said that they were desperately (they did not really write it that way, but it was to guess) looking for mathematicians.

This now was the point to be serious about. I went to her and discussed what lay on my heart. Very softly, and in a very caring tone she answered me. And I got into pieces instantly. As my Mistress she had sworn to take care of my needs, to give me comfort and shelter and to do for me whatever she could do. She never had asked me to become her slave for life because I certainly would have a brilliant career ahead of me. And that these unemployed times shall be over again, sometime. And she should be damned if she stood in my way.

I was speechless at first. Then I was upset, I was rebellious. I could not even process what I had just heard. A career, as if this would count anything against love. I even would do full-time cleaning if necessary.

"No", she said. "I will not allow this." And her voice became stern. If I could not understand the friendly way, than I must have it the other way around. She ordered me on my knees. She held my chin up and looked directly into my eyes. Then she said, "Your Mistress orders you to take into account every job-offer that fits your educational levels and to apply for every such position you can find. And when they want to have you, you sign in! If you do not promise that, there will be no more play amongst us again! Understand?"

With tears in my eyes, I nodded my head yes.

This was now the hardest order I ever got from my Mistress. But I obeyed. And not only because of the order. In some sleepless and tearful nights I got it. She was right, as she always was right. I had to leave Dresden, that was for sure. But I could visit her for weekends, yes, I could. That thought, at least, comforted me.

As ordered I wrote the Swiss bank back, showing off all what I had to offer and indeed, some weeks later I got an invitation to Zurich - and they would pay the flight. As I would fly there and back in one single day I put on my white costume with black pinstripes, that I had in my closet for a long time, and black heels. Under the jacket I would wear a black satin corset (the jacket would not fit without the corset. I had to lose some weight again), such that I would look like an eye-catching machine gun hourglass. Admiring me in the mirror I was sure that, if they would not hire me to plunder my brains, there would still be a chance for hire in order to plunder my body. I grinned. And then I became sad again. But I should obey!

The flight to Zurich was good. At the airport I took a taxi to the bank and arrived right on time for my interview. I was extremely nervous, but soon after I had sat down the atmosphere was somehow relaxed.

The basic point was that these banksters had understood that a part of the crises had been caused by their insufficient risk and volatility management models. But as this was mostly business school stuff, they had come to the conclusion that they were in the need for, say, real mathematicians, that would approach the problems without the prejudicey opinions that were taught at the business schools or economic faculties. Fresh thought, fresh brains. And of course they had all fired their yesterdays brains. Wow!, I thought for myself, hear and stun.

As such, somebody like me would be an ideal choice for them. As they told me about the salary I could expect, I was not stunned, I was shocked. For a bank edging right above the Orcus, they had obviously still a lot of cash to spent. And then they let the cat out of the bag. If I would be interested, I could sign in - today! They would let me two month to arrange my moving and to clear my affairs in Dresden. They would even search me an apartment. Zurich is a very expensive town, and flats are hard to find. I just should tell them if I preferred a normal flat or if I would like to have a loft.

"The loft, please", I answered instantly. "And maybe could I have three rooms, please."

They obviously were amused about my well-educated but white-collar people's courtesy style, but they said that it is as good as done. If I would like to live near the seaside, they asked.

"You mean at the Lake Zurich", I asked as dropping into the rabbits hole. Was I still awake?

"Well not exactly there, this would be too expensive for you, and the most of us" they added with some kind of sigh, "but you would have a sight on it." The bank would own an apartment house on some remote height, where I would have a distant look on the lake by clear weather.

I thought about it for a minute. The prospect of being unemployed in Dresden or a highly paid mathematician in Zurich, well, that was not difficult to decide. In times like these, where good jobs were rare, because human resources were set free everywhere, as they like to euphemistically describe utter firing, well, what could I do else? But then I thought of my Mistress. I did not want to leave her. But I could also not lie to her either - to everybody, but not to her. So Mistress said "Yes" for me, remote-controlled, as so often when I had surrendered. Then we made the contract. And I got a loft with sight on the Lake Zurich. This was indeed a sad wonderland!

On my flight back to Dresden I could not help but to look for the hair in the soup. I just wanted to find it! This was too easy I thought. What is wrong? But the only possible hair to be found was, that this bank was already bankrupt and I would lose my job and my loft within six month or so. As I knew that I always could go back to Dresden, I did not bother. I actually hoped that they were bankrupt already.

And the salary. I am really not about money, despite spending for goodies and wardrobe, but what on this good earth should I do with all this money. I could do expensive journeys to interesting places all around the globe, and this was exactly something I would definitely want to do. And the rest? It would literally pile up in my bank account. And her, I thought again, my eyes watering.

After I had arrived in Dresden I went straight to her to talk about things. She opened the door and I entered silently as it was the rule. She sat down in her easy chair and I stood straight in front of her, moving not an inch.

"Does this girl have permission to speak, Mistress", I began. I was shivering.

"Yes my little-one, you have permission to speak."

"This girl would feel more comfortable if Mistress would give her permission to kneel down", I pleaded, very obediently.

She instantly guessed why. "Is this about our private life or about a real life question pet", she asked me softly.

"This is a real life question, Mistress."

"So listen pet that you instantly do not call me Mistress again. This seems about to be serious. Come here and sit beside me, as good friends. Shall I bring you a coffee?"

Thankfully I nodded yes.

I sat down on the sofa, lit me a cigarette. By the taste of the smoke my breath calmed down a little while She was in the kitchen, doing the coffee.

She soon came back with two cups, one for me and one for herself. She took her a cigarette, too. I told her everything that had happened in Zurich, and that I had signed this contract. And that I actually had not wanted to, because I did not want to leave her, but that in the end it was my only job offer and that I did not have had a choice.

She listened very calm to what I was telling her, sipping at her coffee. As I had finished she took me at my shoulders and turned me fully into her direction. I was breathing heavily. She spoke softly to me, but also firm.

"Listen little-one, I never had allowed you to miss such an opportunity just because of me. You would have been very stupid not to sign in pet. And you are not a stupid-one, are you?"

I shook my head no. As I was beginning to look down She took me at my chin and forced my eyes up again.

"You are not a stupid-one, pet! They want you, they want your brains, and you have a good prospect to become very wealthy there when these stupid banksters are freely offering you such a ridiculous salary for doing some mathematics for them. This is not about me pet, this is completely about you. There is not any single doubt about that. And I will of course give your freedom back to you. What a friend I would be to hold you here when wonderland is just one step away for you. Don't be silly pet!"

She was, of course, as She was so often, well ultimately most of the time, completely right. I matched her eyes, tears in mine and we hugged each other.

"Do not think this is easy for me pet", she whispered in my ear. "It is damned fucking not! You are the very one slave on this world pet. You are irreplaceable!" Her voice was trembling and I felt that she also was at the edge of crying. But, as always, she held her composure as it suits a Mistress.

"I will not have another Mistress again", I cried out loud and buried my head deep in her so strong shoulder. This was a very sad evening. None of us was talking much. We just sat in silence, only comforted by the presence of each other.

To distract me I bought me some books about the subject I would work on. After I had worked me through I laughed to myself. After doing quantum gravity, this would be a trip to the Kindergarten department. Perhaps they wanted me exactly for this reason.

It is a sad fact that the higher you rise the less work you will have to do. Maybe your responsibility will increase, but not your workload. The work is all done by your subs, and, additionally, you will earn the price for all their slaving. Thinking back at my slaving in three jobs while I was a student, for really poor money, this Zurich thing was ridiculous. "Well", I said ironically to myself, "this are the only sub-positions I never would want to be in again. And if this Zurich thing will not turn out into the hoax I still think it is, I probably would never ever have to slave for little money again."

However, as I had two month left, we still had two month to play together. But we now played each weekend. When I begged her to take a week off to just try a whole week of play she said no. First softly. Then, when I would insist, she would become stern. And when I was still rebellious, she ordered me on my knees again where she made me promise to never ask again.

But we also promised ourselves that we would visit each other - and that I would pay her flight. Now she was upset and rebellious - but I was to become stern. I let not a single doubt about that I would pay for her. And that I also would pay for our holidays. And if she would not give in, she would not ever see me again.

I had given everything to take back these last words. But as she was serious about my career, she understood that I was serious about how to spent my money on her in return. She sighed and agreed. A relationship is never a one-way street. Now she had to learn her ropes.

On this last evening in Dresden we were at her place. Mines was already empty and for rent again. I had felt strange to move out after all these long and good years. But what should I have done else?

As always after entering silently, I stood before her straight, not moving an inch.

Then I asked if this girl would have permission to speak. Surprisingly she said no and ordered me on my knees, eyes down.

She stood up from her chair, her legs were shaking. I knew what was to come now, and I hated it. I felt so lost.

She came close to me and laid one hand down on my head. Her voice was so trembling that she had to begin her speech twice.

"I now give back yourself to you, you are no longer my property. All your rights as a free person shall now be restored, and you no longer have to follow my orders without doubt or question! You are no longer my little-one, and I am no longer your Mistress. I am no longer to care for you, to comfort you or to give you shelter!" Her voice broke down at the end.

And with that my slave's collar clicked open and she took it away, with an almost uncontrollable tremor shaking her hands.

As a last act from my now been Mistress she raised up my chin, forcing my eyes up and said, "this collar is now yours and yours alone. Keep it or nor not. It is in my say no more."

I moved my shivering hands up and took it. "I will buy a showcase and put it on display, right in front of my bed. I will not ever wear it again Mi...", I just stuttered out, my voice breaking into pieces at the unspoken last word I was so longing for.

At our wedding, so to say, three years before now, I was a little irritated about that solemn ceremony she had conducted. But now I could utterly understand it. So very utterly.

After the ceremony was done, she, as always, got her composure back much faster than me. I still was on my knees, sobbing loud, lost in my tears. She helped me up and walked me to her sofa. She sat me down there, put a pack of cigarettes in front of me and said, "I am right back my dear." And off she got into the kitchen. When she came back, she held two bottles of red ruby port-wine in her hands, one bottle for each of us. I could not help but to smile. Then I laughed out loud. Of course I remembered that first walk with her at night, where she had rejected me so cleverly for the first time. I had drunken a whole bottle at home to forget about her. I once had told her this story. She also had her pack of cigarettes and we spent a teary happy evening together. Oh what sweet a comfort alcohol can offer you when nothing else would help.

I would never have a real Mistress again. Like me as a slave, also she was irreplaceable.

She would not accompany me to the airport the next morning. She confessed that she could not stand it. Thus, after having an English breakfast, she called me a taxi. We embraced us and kissed as long as the driver started to blow it's horn - and off I went. She waving me farewell until I was out of sight.

After I had settled down in the bank and commenced my work I eventually would hear this typical office building chat on the floor that immediately stopped when I was near or passing by. I still could hear it, because she and the games we had played had really sharpened my hearing. When you are blindfolded and guessing what is about to come you can hear a needle dropping. And so I still did. She had really educated my social skills by tormenting me. Amazing, isn't it?

As it turned out, more than silly, that I had been the only applicant on the position I was in now. The financial crises had all over ruined the reputation of the banks, bankers had become banksters, mobs, plunderers, cleptocrats and so on, such that well educated, but far from finance people like me did never ever come to the idea that working for the gangsters would be acceptable in any way. Even in Switzerland. However, as good jobs were really rare at the time, this indignation was not one of the long living ones, but as my case exactly had fallen into this very small time window, I had got the jackpot. My ridiculous salary, my loft and my instantly made contract was just about that they wanted to grab me as fast as they could. In case that I probably would make up my mind in the last minute to become a moralist like all the other idiots out there. Me and a moralist, ridiculous. If they only knew.

The rumors on the hallways, and their obvious disgust was about me, because I, as a complete outsider, had got what some of my now subordinates always had lusted for, my job. I was a consulting risk and volatility manager. I had nothing to do with the business parts of the bank, but I was the head of a small group that tried to find better models as they were, say, on the market. And we all must never lose a word about this. The bank wanted to plunder our possible results exclusively. This was also a reason for the salary, because none of use was allowed to ever publish anything in scientific journals to claim the honors. The salary was also some kind of compensation for holding still. We were not even allowed to talk about our work in front of other colleagues from other sections. Our communication ran directly up to the mathematician in chief and still upwards to the real bigshots. No leaks ever. I thought this to be a little overdone, but as the outside world was enraged about the banksters, they themselves were trembling with fear that they would follow the Lehman Brothers down to Orcus. Certainly not because of responsibility, truly not, but because of their jobs, their salaries, their houses, their boats, their whole expensive life-style, their wives and lovers, which would instantly leave the losers when there would be no more Cartier and no more Côte d' Azur. Not a sound motivation, but understandable. These poor guys had not learned anything useful, anything of real value. They could do nothing else but managing, whatever that means, and peacocking. To my opinion they all were imposters, and to pity.

How these guys were really trembling was not known on the outside, but even with the tax money that has been pumped in, situations were still horrible. For example, there was a french bank - no names - which had toxic papers in their depots in terms of twice of one a year's state budget of France. How they were able to balance this out year over year and not going down is a riddle to me. If this bank had collapsed, France had gone down with them. Maybe they had a better consultant than me. I was again lucky, because my now bank was not even in a quarter of the trouble this french bank was in.

There was not a single day I did not think of her. As she could not order me anymore, she cordially had advised me not to contact her until I would have settled down a bit. At east a little bit. And right she was again.

I began to furnish my apartment. As I had thrown away most of my furniture, because it really was run down, I slept just on the floor, a single blanket over me. Like a good slave. It came to my mind that she never had made me to sleep on the floor. Anyhow.

I had a living room with panorama windows, a balcony, a bedroom, a to be furnished properly playroom and a fourth room that should be a rubbish room. Washing-machine, ironing board, dustbins, and so on. The maid's room.

As it is the silly custom nowadays, the kitchen was integrated into the living-room. Stupid. Just by doing a single steak everything would smell fatty. And the loft had a cold atmosphere. I did not like it on from the beginning. But as I looked up the announcements for flats I was stunned. Obviously I was paying a special price, because the bank owned the house I was living in. Shit!

Thus, I furnished the loft as warm and comfortable as possible. And as for that kitchen, I put two walls of glass around it, with a door in it. Better to say I had let put.

Now for the playroom. At first I thought that I should copy hers in Dresden, but I made up my mind. It would not be good to create a temple. And she certainly would not appreciate this. Switzerland, like Germany, is full of highly capable craftsmen, specializing in all fields, offering expensive service, but for really high quality in return. Sometimes with lifelong guarantees. And as I was not about money, either the one nor the other way around, I made an appointment with a company that offered blacksmith and carpenter services for special furniture. I showed them the room, told them what I wanted, what kind of goodies I had in mind. How thick the walls should be padded, and so on, so on etc. They took measure and left, promising to send me some drafts soon. I got the drafts back one week later.

Ironically one draft indeed looked like my then dungeon home in Dresden. And it would be the best for placing the showcase with my been slave's collar right in front of the bed. I opted for it and the production began to roll on.

As I knew for sure that there never again would, could be a real Mistress in my life, I had revived the me-Mistress inside me. It was harder than ever to Domme myself, but I had no choice. I took a slow pace to adjust to it again. I nearly thought I would not have the power anymore. "My brave little-one", I tried to nurse myself, "you will stand it. Sh my sweet pet." I was about to cry again.

Half of a year later I called her on some Friday evening. I told her about my loft, the furniture I had bought and my work at the bank. And that it somehow bored me. She was astonished. I told her that they wanted research, yes, but they were to timid to really try it a different way. They are just about to make the same mistakes again. They are literally paying me for the dustbin. They just do not understand this, because now it is a completely different market to them. They are done with the bonds, now they are about shares, buying as crazy as ever. They cannot understand that this is all the same, bonds, shares, whatever.

If she would like to visit me soon, I asked. Yes, she would be free on the next weekend - without a slave as I heard, unspoken. But she would take the car, of course. I became upset in an instance. "This just costs precious hours", I argued.

"You will fly", I ordered, "it is just a short-haul route, sojourn in Frankfurt or Munich. You can fly economic!" She gave in. Mistressing someone is not so bad I thought. But of course it is so much more than ordering somebody around. I never could take on with this unbelievable responsibility. One must literally think for three.

As the taxi came up the small height where my place was built upon my whole body began to shiver. I had dressed up as ever beauty and sexy as possible. At first I have had the idea to put on my maid's dress, to open the door obediently and show the madame around. Bullshit. She comes as friend.

As she left the elevator I run out of my door, embracing her in an instant, not only with my arms, but also with my legs. Kissing her lips thirsty as ever. And there we stood, kissing each other deeply with our tongues. She seemed to be somehow relieved. Later she told me that she had feared that the distance would somehow disentangle us.

"Now you are the stupid-one", I teased her.

I showed her around and she was deeply impressed. As I saw that she felt a little small, I comforted her with my arms.

"This is a cold place. I did my best to create some cosy warmth in here. And far too large it is either. My little run-down flat in Dresden offered so much more comfort, it had so much more personality. I want to have it back, you know, as for you too, but I can't. I can see it in your eyes darling, but there is absolutely no reason to envy me. Understand!"

"I do not envy you as you think. I know that this all is only vanity for you. I just was.., so impressed by all that. Do not ever get me wrong, please."

I hugged and kissed her again.

"And now I show you the one and only thing that is good about this loft-shit. I walked her towards the panorama windows, opened the door to the balcony and took her out. It was an awesome sunny day. A crystal clear blue diamond sky with a rock-hard sun burning down, how it is possible only in the Alps. I walked her to the balustrade, stretched one arm, and with my index finger I pointed out.

"The Lake Zurich, my darling. Small it is, but yes. Look and stun."

There it laid as if sleeping.

The problem with Switzerland, Austria and Upper Bavaria is their overwhelming beauty on crystal clear blue diamond sky days. It is just about too much. And so it was for her. For holidays she had been out for Spain, Turkey, Tunisia or Egypt. But she had never seen something like this. I had grown up in Munich, I knew about this illusive and fiendish theater. It literally can cut your heart out of your breast. And just about an instant later all can vanish, and it will continuously rain for two weeks.

I still wanted to show her my playroom. I took her hand, but her view was as if it was glued to the sight of the lake.

"There is still something I want to show you darling. Come on, the lake will still be there."

In my dungeon she was impressed, but minded that it would look like hers I shortly explained the funny story with the drafts. But then her glance touched the showcase with my slave's collar in, illuminated, and she began to weep. And me too. We lay in each others arms, holding us tight at each others shoulder.

"I would sacrifice all this shit here at once, just to go back to you, darling."

"I know, and it is the same about me. But you know that this is impossible now. Your life is here, at least your real life. I had sworn to care for you, and as your Mistress I did hold that oath. It was my duty to step out of your way."

The rest of the day we spent on the balcony, under the sunshade, drinking cold lemonade, smoking cigarettes. I had advised her to use as much sun cream as possible, despite the sunshade. I knew how mean the sun could be on such days, even when you are used to it. Eventually her gaze would wander to the sight of the lake, silently sighing. But I heard it. The blindfold-training, I remembered.

In the late afternoon I made us something to eat, then we ate and watched some movies. Afterwards we got to bed and slept together like plain-vanilla lovers do. We had come to consent that we would not play on this weekend. All was still too fresh. The next day we went sightseeing in Zurich and much closer to the lake. And we did take a vessel to explore the lake and the shore from a different point of view. Evening and night we spent at my place again. Making love with each other.

We had a lazy Sunday on the balcony and eventually made love under the sunshade.

"Sh", I teased her, "the neighbours!" And we both laughed out loud in memory of our first full weekend session.

At the early evening I called a taxi and took her to the airport. We had a teary farewell. As all good things come to an end eventually, here it was the same.

We had agreed to visit us every six weeks, alternating Zurich and Dresden. As I would pay, this would cause her no trouble. And we resumed our play, but it was of course not quite the same. We could only play pretend to be Mistress and slave, but both we knew that this was over. But if nothing else is in sight, you take what you can find. She had somebody to Domme, I had a real person to Domme me.

Some years passed by this way. Once or twice a year we went on holidays together, exploring all the interesting places around the world by high-class travel. Flying to Peru in economic class is hell, flying in business class is, well not bliss, but somewhat cool.

My work got boring and more boring. Not only because it was never applied by the banksters, but also because I was running out of ideas. I was just managing my little group and I became about to do what managers do: pretending to work.

But lazy in this point as I naturally was, I did not really try to find another job, because I knew, as things had changed again, that I could not expect a payment as large as I presently had. They would not fire me because I knew all this stuff they kept secret. And if they did not want to kill me, they had to keep me.

I was giggling about the thought that maybe I would still be unemployed in Dresden if she had not ordered me to look for jobs. But would that have been so bad I thought? A loser, yes, but a lucky loser. And I was just about to gulp down some tears.

Against a new position was also my aversion to move to somewhere else. Not again! And my me-Mistress was not strong enough to order me so. After my one and only real Mistress this me-Mistress was just like a bad joke.

Surprisingly it dawned to me that I was not willing to give up my ridiculously high salary because of one point in special. I could pay for our first-class holidays and I could pay for her journeys to Zurich. Was I buying her? No, certainly not. We were equals now. And me paying was just because of our friendship. This was no charity, this was pure caring and longing for each other. I could indeed call me lucky that I was able to offer that to her. With a normal salary, as her's was, you cannot travel around like this. Long or short, you would have no penny left. And at least some pennies should be there. Just in case. But after her initial reluctance she did not even care about this anymore.

Moreover, I had completely no impulse to play with myself. I craved for her attention, her touch on my skin, the expertly touch of her whip, and the forced orgasms of course. To get more out of it, I resumed my chastity-training. Back then in our relationship she could keep me in for two month without me going mad. I could even stand the Benwas swinging around in me, teasing me, arousing me, but not driving me silly. My levels of arousal had been extended into such heights that I could be kept, horny as hell, but in complete sanity. I did not even know what was the better. The arousal or the release. The arousal lived longer, but the orgasms were simply without words. No language has yet been designed to cover this feelings.

Was I addicted to orgasms, to arousal? A clear Yes! But what about addiction? Sure, addiction makes your life go down at sometimes. But hey, isn't that the case since birth?

Over time my life became more and more secluded again. I ceased to use the possibilities of distraction that were offered by Zurich, by the vicinity of the Lake Constance or the Lake Lucerne. The Lake Geneva. The Lake Lugano. All these beautiful places. I had ceased to travel around Switzerland, because no travel without her was fun. I got back into my teenager's and student's nutshell. And only there, as back then in time, I felt that I was sane and secure. It was like a large contraction right into the beginning. The little girl was back, anxiously hiding behind a shield. And if I would not still have had contact with her, it just would have appeared to me like a distant dream, blown away by the cruel dawn of an unforgiving sun. As I gazed towards the sun I said aloud, "but you will die too my friend, in five billion years. Be prepared"! I knew that this was ridiculous, of course. But the fiendish sun gave me the inspiration to work on my subject again. Well, not doing physics for real as such, but to keep up with the crowd again, reading papers in open journals and eventually developing some little ideas to be worked out. I bought some high-speed computers with the fastest CPU's available and combined them to a little calculation center in my rubbish-room. Now I had something to play with. I also bought a large and expensive telescope. I placed it on my balcony to gaze at the stars at night. So much beauty out there, so much violence, so much hope, and so much despair. If only there would be one earth per galaxy out there, than this still would be much. Ten billions of galaxies. If they also would do bondage out there?

I realized that this star-gazing was also a shield. My shield was the infinity out there, and the nutshell on earth. In the night, I either gazed upon the stars, or I vibed me into orgasm until I could take it no more. And as I was well-trained I could take a lot, keeping me in chastity else. And I began to call in sick more often than I actually got to my so-called work.

I woke up in the hospital. My head was aching, but I did know nothing anymore. They told me that I had been found while laying on the lawn besides my apartment house. All my extremities were broken. And that I have had much luck that my spine and my neck still were intact. I could have died. With this word they were literally snooping on me. And that I have had a high level of alcohol in my blood.

Even more to snoop.

Despite I was aching all over my body I shouted out as loud as I possibly could that "Yes, I wanted to kill me, yes, I did apparently not work out well, because else I were not about to hear such stupid slipslop! And yes, I goofed it. I am a loser. Now get out of my eyes, stupid one!"

As medical doctors are used to everything, he not even raised an eyebrow. He just made some notes, than he left.

A nurse came eventually and gave me something for the pain in my body and something for the pain in my mind. I slept a lot during these days. And as I was not into intensive care anymore because of my injuries had healed enough, they got me to psychiatric department. I was not allowed to leave the station I was in, because I still was at risk by myself.

At first I completely refused to talk, calling them names and having arguments like a rebellious teenager. But psychiatrists are even more used to all what is human, they were patient with me. But eventually I began to talk, as everybody will talk at some point. But when I began to talk, I told them everything. I did not care, this was my life. I was proud of it - at least in some points. My appeal to bondage and all the stuff around was not regarded as a disease, it is part of the human sexuality. My addiction to orgasms was not, at least not in that way. But as that was me too, I completely refused any treatment.

"This is not my problem", I said with a stern voice like an angry Mistress to her ever stubborn slave.

I never had made my Mistress angry, nor did I ever provoke her. Sigh.

But I understood well that I had to cure my ever longing for her. This had ruined me. And it would continue so if I would not turn around. And I could not do this to her.

As from the history of my life they diagnosed a major depression, with episodes probably back to my teenage years. I got strong anti-depressants and was prescribed a psychotherapy, which I commenced only very reluctantly. But as they very well know how to deal with a stubborn and rebellious patient, they finally got me on the road.

I told the doctors that I had broken down completely when, on the Friday before my goofed suicide, she had called me on Skype. With her ever soft and ever so caring voice she tried to explain to me that she had found a new slave. A young girl that was a real one, not a wannabe. And that this would not change anything with our friendship and that we were still lovers and that we of course could play together on our visits, and, and, and... . This had now been too much for me. That was the last drop. I clicked Skype away without any word and shut down the computer. I also shut down my mobile phone. I ripped out the cord of the conventional telephone. I began to play that piece of Boccherini that I liked so much and that remembered me of my french maid's session with her. I did not sleep for the whole night, eventually gazing the stars, eventually running around in my flat, crying. The next day I went to a department-store and bought a chest of red ruby port. I comforted me with it's taste all day long, so full of memory. In deep midnight then, I went over the balustrade of my balcony, as I would fall deep and into her strong arms. The only reason for me not to be dead was that my free-fall went through several large sunshades and some canopies wealthy people have on their balconies in order to peacock. This but decelerated me just about to arrive safe for life down on the lawn.

"There is no rely even on gravity anymore", I said sarcastically, "I should have calculated it." I had thought that for somebody who had worked on gravity that would be the appropriate death.

About her. After I had abruptly dismissed her, she had of course been upset. Then she became worried afterwards. As she is my then been Mistress I still was an open book to her. She knew how this worked on me, she knew that I was still this wounded deer she had met, now left alone in the woods. And she knew that I eventually should make up my mind. But as she could not reach me for a whole week she was really worried. She called in sick at work and drove to Zurich instantly. After arriving at my place she had an easy snoop to find out what had happened and were I was. Rumors spread fast. At the hospital but they are not birdbrained. As I had so frankly confessed my attempt to commit suicide and why, they asked her a few questions about her relationship with me and it did not take them long to guess out that she was the reason for all this. Access was of course denied. But at least she knew that I was alive. Devastated, but alive. They hinted her not to try to contact me within the next eight weeks. Then we should look ahead.

After I was delivered to the psychiatric department she tried to call in, but, as they knew from the surgery who she was, they did not let her speak with me. Not before I expressed my wish to talk to her. I was not at risk from myself anymore, such that the doctors thought that it would be about time.

She refused to talk on the phone. She just was glad to hear my voice and she said that she would come instantly. She drove through all night and, arriving in Zurich, she took a room in a small bed and breakfast hotel. In the morning she called in sick again and at noon, after lunch, she visited me in the hospital. We had a long walk through the gardens or sat down by the buttery and had some lemonade and some coffee. And we smoked one cigarette after the other. We talked it all through, all the things that we should already have talked about as we were grown ups. Sometimes a catastrophe must happen to make things better again.

The major problem had been that I still was used to remain silent in her presence and thus I only talked when spoken to or asked about, and that she still relied so much on her ability to read me. This had worked in times were we had been close. But her ability to judge me had faded somewhat with the distance and our completely different lives. And I had to grow up and talk by my own impulse.

And I was so glad that she did not blame herself for what had happened. She knew that she was not to blame. Nobody was to blame. It is just as life goes. Maybe she should not have forced me away, but whatever who knows how it could have been else. Either me making a steep career out there in a world just to conquer by the brave. Or a happy or unhappy full-time girl. Nobody can ever know about it. Putting all this into balance, she had been, of course - right.

After we had talked it all through she came up with a proposition. I should think carefully about it, but she would think that it would be the best.

As subs that had found their perfect Dommes would be naturally in the much weaker position after the relationship had split up for whatever reason. They normally would not find a Domme again that would serve their needs. These subs would have to educate and train the Domme up to their level. But this does not work. Some of these subs would now become Dommes themselves. This situation is the only one where natural Dommes have an advantage. They can train a new sub after time has gone by. The proposal was now that I would join her with the training of her new little-one, as a Mistress-trainee. That would give us time together under completely different circumstances. And we hand something new to share instead of being haunted by spooks from the past, as wonderful as they ever have been."

I was not quite sure about this. Me a Domme, me, the living sex-toy?

"Okay", I said. I have to sleep over it. I just want to see how much the anti-depressants will stabilize me. Is this fine for you?"

"But of course. If it is fine for you, then it shall be all fine for me", she replied.

"Did you ever notice my darling", I said to her, what a hard time we both have not to fall back into our, say, natural roles. I always want to call you Mistress, and you also have a hart time not to call me pet or little-one."

She nodded yes. "I too have still something to get over", she answered. "After four years now. Life really is unfair, don't you think so?"

"Yes, so unfair", I sighed. "And why always me?"

After this we had such an outburst of laughter that the whole buttery watched us. But as this was the loony bin nobody took offence. Anyway I found that the people in the loony bin were much more normal than all these peacocks outside.

"And by the way, please call me Andrea again. As this is where I come from, it certainly would suit me as a Mistress, too. Wouldn't you think so?"

She nodded yes.

After this talk my convalescence took up speed and I could return to my normal life within eight weeks from this date on. The anti-depressants but I would have to take for the rest of my life. I was already too jeopardized by my depression that the doctors did not want to take any chances.

8. The new little-one and my new game - Finally

As I have not yet noted that my one and only Mistresses name is, say, Sascha, I will do it now. As below three girls will be involved, it will make things easier to tell.

In advance to her stay with her new little-one in Zurich Sascha had sent me a dossier about her pet. Sweet 23 years old and a real one, no wannabe. As being a wannabe would be very excusable regarding her age, I still was stunned by her history. That could have been me I thought. Me, fifteen years younger, grown up with the internet. But then I would probably not have ever met Sascha. So what about.

The little-one was about kinky already in teenage - if that ever else could be possible I asked myself. The little-one but had chances to experiment with schoolmates. Like me she is more into bondage and role-play than into SM, but as I had learned about, that is all the same in the end. There is only one arousal and the whip or the vibe are it's prophets.

And she is also into orgasm. I grinned. Which young healthy woman is not into orgasm? The question is just how far she is in already. But Sascha noted she would have a problem with it. Suspiciously frigidity. Poor girl.

And the little-one studied modern languages, English, French, Spanish and Russian. "Wow" came it out of my mouth. That must be a clever little-one. Languages had always been mysterious to me. My English is good enough to read and write publications on my subject and for small-talk, but that is all. At some point I had understood that grammar is some kind of algebra with the words as numbers to be played with. But this algebra is so lacking of straight logic that you still have to learn too much about it. I had studied physics mostly because I am a lazy one. Physics is easy. Either you get it straight or you never get it. There is nothing to learn and nothing in between.

But then I already pitied Sascha again. This young clever little-one, within a few years, will leave her certainly - or Sascha will make her go because of her responsibility, like me. Whatever who knows. Maybe Sascha and me both were destined to become two old lonesome kinkies.

As I saw her with her new pet I got angry in a second. I had the money, she had the slave. The world was so unfair. "Shut up Andrea" I shouted inside me.

I made me breath slowly again and tried to use a technique from the loony bin. I closed my eyes and let my senses flow to take up whatever they would catch, without any judgment about it. This is so utterly simpleton a method, but it really works. It can take your drifting senses back into presence. Not in reality so to say, because reality already is a construction.

As Sascha saw me practicing my exercise she stopped to approach me and waited until my state was over and I was back to composure. She knew that it must be hard for me to see her walking her pet towards me. And the little-one was well-informed that I was from the loony ones.

And nervous I was, me, the Mistress-trainee. I wore my white pinstripe skirt, bare legs, black high heels. On top a tight white blouse and a black satin corset that popped up my breasts. My smooth blonde hair floating around my shoulders. I at least wanted to look like a Mistress. Sascha, the real Mistress, wore, as she always did, normal street clothes. This time although a little more lady-like to honor the event. Real power stems from the inside, not from some funny clothes.

I bid them in and we did the honours.

"Little-one", Sascha said, introducing me, "this is your senior slave and now your Mistress-trainee. Her name is Andrea. You shall obey her as you are to obey me. Understood?"

The little-one nodded yes.

"You have permission to greet your Mistress", and the little-one lifted her eyes up to me and greeted me politely with a curtsy, but not without some reluctance. I could understand only too well. And I envied her and felt so uneasy to be a Mistress now. But I would learn.

Then Sascha and me embraced each other and kissed passionately. The little-one spied on us, but kept her head down as a well-behaving slave would do. I smiled. I also had loved spying on my then Mistress.

The little-one was slender and at least ten centimetres higher than me and Sascha. And with her heels on even about twenty centimetres. She looked exquisitely impressive. She had short red hair, was well-kempt of course, and had light brown eyes. A little less curvy she was, but concerning her height that was not to wonder about.

We sat down in the living-room, both of us in an easy chair, the little-one at Sascha's feet on the floor. She softly petted the little-one's head and stroke through her hair.

The little-one was indeed spying on me, she tried to figure out what and who I was, as I would pay for this pleasure trip. In her case I also would have been nosy, and I could very well imagine the uneasiness that was created by an yet not existing trust. The pet would trust me only because Sascha trusted me. The little-one certainly would know my story with her Mistress, and I was nosy either to hear her story. But that was still not about time.

Some beverages were on the table, also cigarettes, and I eagerly took one. I had to get rid of my nervousness. And then I tried to start a Mistress talk. That means that the Mistresses would chat with each other as if the sub was not present.

"You", I said, "I mean you should set her on diet. Not for less food I mean, for some little more. She still needs to become curvy."

Sascha agreed instantly and called this a very good idea. "Yes my little-one, we should built up some more curves, shouldn't we. Your Mistress Andrea is completely right about that."

Oh how I had loved this petting talk she could give.

Sascha gave me signals with her eyes that so far I was good in Mistressing. Go one, she told me with the glitter flaming up in her eyes.

The little-one now leaned her head against her Mistress' knee, truly luxuriating in this touch.

"Is she already well-trained, or is she just about beginning?", I asked, only to say something.

"Well, more on the beginning" Sascha said. "I am about to increase her possible levels of arousal as high as possible, just as I did it with you back then. And in bondage, we are in the stage of increasing ropes, not yet far, but increasing. This very little-one has not had an orgasm for weeks now. Only some tease and a lot of denial. You must be starving, don't you, little-one."

The last words she had spoken so soft and so sweet and so caring that I got goosebumps on my skin. Sascha was the ultimate Mistress, she had it in her genes. The little-one nodded politely and kept her eyes down. When I thought back to these games I could have cum right here on the spot.

"But this little-one", she resumed, "is far from being such a sex-toy as you are. I also need to train her ability to orgasm. She seems to be a little cool. That's why I seek your advice Andrea. You are an unreached expert on this field. You surely can train her right on the spot."

I agreed by nodding my head in her direction.

"Now my little-one", I said as soft as I possibly could to get trust from her, "I shall do my very best to help you on the road. Let me cordially assure you that this road, when you start to drive it, will never ever become boring again. Yes my little-one? You have permission to answer." I wanted to hear her voice.

"Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress", she said timidly. The voice had a somewhat tremolo in it, but all else sounded like soft and smooth velvet.

Sascha raised her thumb up to me without the little-one to see it. But what had she told that poor girl that she was so apparently frightened of me.

When I looked at the two of them and imagined me into the role of the little-one I at once could feel this warm and comforting feeling again. But looking from the outside now, this pair looked somewhat strange to me. Outside and inside is completely different. And I am definitely outside, knocking at the door, pleading that somebody would let me in.

I could not stand it anymore. I bid Sascha to have a word with her. We went in my bedroom.

"What have you told that poor little girl about me. She looks at me as if I was the wolf and she the sheep."

"She is just a shy little deer as you have been and still are. You know, from outside it looks completely different, but all is well. She is just shying on you. That's all. She is really a good one. If I had you suddenly introduced to a new Mistress, ordering you to obey her as you obeyed me, what would you have thought. She tries to trust you only because I trust you. Just let her some time, and show her that you do care, okay."

"Maybe she should come over to me. Touching builds up trust, doesn't it?"

And so we did it. I ordered the little-one softly at my feet. Instantly she crawled over to me and knelt besides my chair. I began to softly pet her head, caressing her hair.

Petting a little-one into some trust is far harder than being that little-one. My respect for Sascha grew and grew.

"Do you want something to drink my sweet little-one?", I asked her.

She nodded her head yes. I stood up, took a glass of lemonade from the table and sat back down. I palmed her head with my right hand and slowly sipped her some lemonade into her mouth with my left. She swallowed eagerly. The sweet little-one was thirsty. And she did not make any sound about it. I wouldn't have done so either, knowing that my Mistress would have noticed it undoubtedly and would soon take care about it. Sascha again hold her thumb up, but only in a very fast gesture to not to show the little-one.

As I kept on sipping, the little-one looked up to me and slightly shook her head no. I stopped sipping instantly and stroke her head.

"Do you want a cigarette little-one", I asked her. Feeding a shy being always builds up some trust. I got on with that strategy.

The little-one nodded yes. I lit up a cigarette. I inhaled first, then let her inhale. We smoked together as I had learned it.

After the cigarette was smoked I said "and now I have a special present for you pet. Just you wait for me, I'll be back in a second. With this I almost run into the kitchen and fetched some Swiss chocolate. I walked back in controlled composure, I had already shown too much nervousness. I sat down again and held the chocolate right in front of her eyes. Like a carrot.

"Do you like chocolate pet" I asked.

She nodded her head yes, but looked questioningly over to Sascha. So chocolate was forbidden. I got an idea.

"However pet", I said, and softly caressed her left cheek, as long as you are in training with me, you can enjoy chocolate after each little success. Would you like this pet?"

She turned her so beautiful light brown eyes up to me, smiled and nodded eagerly.

"So her is your first reward sweetie", and I slowly fed her the bar of chocolate. She enjoyed it with obvious pleasure. She was not alone dying for some orgasms, but also for chocolate. Was I forbidden to eat chocolate? I could not remember, but each training was different, depending on the personality. Then it came to me. She had not forbidden me chocolate because she knew that I needed it in my real life, like smoking. Aha, I thought. This is the game. Like Sascha knew how far she could move. I admired her even more.

And as the pet, without order, began to lick my fingers clean of the little rest of melted chocolate I had on them, I knew that I got her. She began to snuggle close to my lower legs and I went blushing red. The deer was tamed so far, but what should I do now.

Sascha again showed me her thumb up. I shrugged my shoulders to indicate that I would be done so far. I had no idea left. I just kept on petting the little-one.

She waved her hands as to slow me done. All would be good. She indicated that I just would let the little-one snuggle close and give her time.

So as I had no other idea left I began to intensify my strokes and caresses and the little-one indeed snuggled even closer and began to moan softly. She was in pleasure right now, and so was I. Proud of me. Now I knew why slaves were also called pets. Because they really are.

I tried to be as parenthetical as I could when I asked if the pet is still a student. Sascha answered yes. "And then she is certainly short of money", I added the obvious.

"Yes, she is. She is slaving in two jobs to have some extra money. Isn't it hard, a student's life, is it, pet."

The pet nodded.

"Pet", I said, and she instantly raised her eyes up to mine. I softly took her chin. "You must know pet that I have slaved in three jobs just to pay my rent and to have some extra money to buy me goodies."

She looked at me astonished, but she seemed somehow to be relieved about that I not always had been wealthy. She looked at me with sympathy.

"What would you say pet, you certainly would like me to buy you some goodies, and probably something more, say, a feminine dress up. At least for appropriate occasions like today. You certainly would like this, pet, wouldn't you?" I closed by imitating Sascha's nursing style.

The pet's eyes began to shine.

I observed Sascha with half eyes. She waved her thumb in the medium and rolled her eyes a little. So I should not pamper the pet too much. I shrugged my shoulders, said is said.

"Now pet, what would you like to have. You have permission to speak." I still found it strange to give permission to speak and not to ask for it.

The dear pet moved away from my lower leg, knelt herself right on her lower legs in front of me, raised her head and said, "When this girl is allowed to chose, then this girl would like to have a black leather muzzle gag, please Mistress."

I squeezed her cheeks with joy. "That is indeed what I wanted to have too, this was my first goodie. Oh what are you such a well-behaving pet my dear." And I palmed her face with my hands and kissed her on her forehead.

"And what would you like for dressing up. Don't be shy, as we shall become good friends. Speak freely and without any fear or doubt." I thought that I did a very good job right now. Feeding and gifting, that works all the time.

"When this girl is allowed to ask, then this girl would...."

"Now speak freely pet. Trust me. We shall be friends, in play and outside play, yes pet." I tried to sound very encouragingly.

"Well then Mistress, this girl would like, ..., would like to dress up like you are right now, Mistress." She had spoken very fast, without pause. She thought that she had probably gone too far in her wishing.

"Pet", I said, "I ordered you to be frank, and frank you were. You have nothing to fear sweetie. You want to have the same as I wear - and you shall have it, with all what must be. Jacket, corset, skirt, heels, pushup-bra, panties and blouse."

I caressed her breasts with my hands and she moaned out loud. Now I really got her. She was mine to play ping-pong with. As her trust so far was only bought, I would need it for her playtime, and I would need it utterly.

The pet snuggled close to me again and softly stroke my lower legs.

"And we should do something about her hair. They should be longer, more feminine. And we must buy a different colour as my outfit is. White does not yet fit with her red hair, does it", I asked Sascha.

"You are the Mistress right now, you chose." She nodded yes, but she was somehow upset. I had definitely pampered too much. But where should I have known from. The carrot, yes. Hold it before her mouth, but not let her grab it, at least not too fast and too soon, and certainly not too easy. Lesson learned I thought. But I needed to built up trust, and really fast I should do this. To undo my mistake, at least a bit I said "pet", and instantly she raised up again and knelt on attention. It really looks like a well-trained dog, I thought. Did I look like this? Certainly, but it felt so good.

"Pet", this are many and expensive gifts. And you shall have them, said is said. But would you grant me some gifts in return, little-one, would you?"

She nodded her head eagerly.

"Well then pet, the gag is my unconditional present for you, because I know very well how badly one can want to have it when one has no money to buy it. But as for the outfit, this has seven pieces. We shall try to have at least seven good orgasms this weekend, shouldn't we pet."

The pet shook her head yes, but the poor thing seemed to be disappointed. As if she would not manage it.

"Little-one", I said and forced her face softly up again. "You will have them, right. But you need to work on it. Will you do this pet. Will you do this for me pet?"

She nodded yes. Not so eagerly as before, but still eagerly. She began to trust me. Huh, mission impossible closed. Seems indeed to be a little frigid this little-one. Oh what I shall heat her up.

Sascha waved her thumb up again. I was so released that I exhaled very loud a sigh. Mistressing is very exhausting. You have to think of everything.

The little-one was back luxuriating at my feet. This still felt strange but also somewhat, well, somewhat arousing. More than somewhat.

I made silent signs to Sascha and spoke with my lips, but without voice "Play-time over".

The real Mistress had very well understood me.

"My little-one", she spoke, and instantly the little-one was on attention again. "Would you mind to leave play-mode to become familiar as friends, would you?"

The little-one nodded eagerly again.

"Good", ordered the real Mistress, "than play-time is over for now."

Instantly the little-one raised up from her kneeling position, took my hand and shook it friendly.

"My name is Katrin. Yours is Andrea, right. Nice to meet you. It is a great pleasure to become acquainted to this, well, this archetype of slave Sascha always sings me anthems about. Sorry for being shy at the beginning, but I was really timid to meet you. And if I may say this, you did really a good job in taming this girl. For your the first time a Mistress, this is formidable work, if this inexperienced girl may say so."

"This was not too difficult, feeding and touching always works out well with pets. And then I even bought your trust."

And to Sascha. "So you sing anthems about me, right?"

She went blushing red. I never have seen this on her. Her, the always controlled-one.

Strange as is was for me now, I still could imagine to be the sub, but my wish to serve her faded slowly, but it faded. We were friends now, only friends. Even out of play-mode, I had then never had dared to talk to her so snappy like I had right now.

"Well Katrin" I answered, "your lot is even better, because you still have the archetype of a Mistress above you. Let me assure you, she is the one Mistress, the one and only. You are really lucky. Sascha is irreplaceable. And when she, at sometimes later, wants to force you away - stay, Oh my dear god stay!"

Sascha still was blushing.

"So", I resumed, "you did not tell your new toy. "

"I was so ashamed of myself that I did not dare too, after your, well after your attempt of suicide. I had loved you so much. But out of responsibility I had to do it. You know very well!"

"Yes darling", I comforted her, suddenly the stronger again. "But you have to admit that you cannot make a real-life decision for your pet in play-mode. This does not fit. Only when the pet is completely 24/7, than this would apply."

"Right", she said. "You are right my dear sweetie, I have spoiled it."

"But now Katrin has the advantage, and I am glad for her that she has. As I have my medicals now, I can carry my backpack much easier than before."

And to Katrin, "let you never ever force away from her. You will regret it. And if she threatens you not to play anymore, than you know that she loves you for real. And never ever leave her alone. You will never be satisfied with another Mistress again. Understood, Katrin?"

She nodded yes. In that speech-fire between old friends and play-partners she felt lost a little, but that was understandable.

And then I took Katrin's hand and guided her out on my balcony. It again was one of these crystal clear blue diamond sky days that could make your mind ache from beauty. I walked her to the balustrade and showed her the Lake Zurich. She simply said "wow", and glanced around.

"Yes", I replied, "this is just a wow. It is breathtaking, it is awesome, it is sometimes mindblowing and can make your heart ache. But believe me, when you have it all day then this does not work anymore. I was not born wealthy. My parents both had to work. They could hardly afford to pay me half my rent for that little run-down apartment in Dresden. But I was happy there, with Sascha. As a student, a PhD student, and as her girl. It was not all good, but I was happy most of the time. But when I became this ridiculously high-paid-bored-to-death mathematician that I am now, all got into pieces. It seems that I had depressions all my life, but I could cope. And now I am a member of the loony bin department, me, the wealthy lonely poor little girl. Do not ever give up what your heart tells you to do. Do not make my mistakes. This lake, as beautiful as it is, this loft, all my money, this funny little coloured paper, this is all bullshit. I would happily give it all away if I could have back my life in Dresden. Understand?"

She nodded yes.

"And tomorrow I show you orgasms that you never could have imagined. By the way, are you a little frigid, just about?"

"It seems to be.", she confessed. "I like orgasms very much, who does not. But I have a hard time to cum. Are you sure that I can have... seven?"

"Let's see what we can do about this?"


"And if it's only four", I whispered, "I won't tell her and you get your costume still. Hands on it. Give me all your measures, I shall have it custom made for you."

"Thank you so much Mi..."

"Please Katrin, never call me Mistress out of play-mode. Because even in play-mode it sounds so very strange to me still."

We spent the afternoon luxuriating on the balcony, chit-chatting about this and that. In the evening we had dinner. I had made, fitting as ever, deer loins with my port-sauce and dumplings. Afterwards we watched some movies and had some red wine. When it was about bedtime, Sascha switched into play-mode again and ordered her little-one to sleep on the floor close to my bed. I would not trust my ears.

"Pet", I ordered, "would you leave us alone for some time." And off she got with a smile on her bowed down face. She knew what was to come now. After pet had left my bedroom I asked Sascha since when she had become so cruel. Making the little-one to sleep on the floor while we would enjoy ourselves in my bed.

"I was always cruel my dear. It is part of my play. You just did not notice, because you were also into it, and much more than me. And you were into it so much more that I had to take the utmost care about you."

"What", I nearly swallowed up.

"Well my darling, let me explain to you. I rejected you almost three times, well knowing how much you wanted it. Until I had you on your knees, literally begging me to take you. You just did not notice that you already were mine. Cruel yes, but well calculated. But you never came about the idea that this would be cruel, right? You were hurt, yes, but cruel - no! In our sessions I let you suffer almost two days of utmost arousal-training while we played, increasing each time. Cruel, very cruel. But you wanted it this way, you even wanted more, and faster as it was good for you. Right from our wedding on, I kept you in prolonged massive bondage and utmost helplessness, while you then were only used to some plain-vanilla rope-self-bondage. Cruel, but you needed it this way. I always had to balance your overflowing fantasies with things that were possible, and things that were not possible, or at least not yet. I never wanted to bore you. Your orgasm training, as cruel as anything, but you wanted it and you needed it. You were always three steps ahead of me, and I had to haste behind you. Indeed you were forcing me, not the other way around. Have you ever thought about that.

I shook my head no.

Nearly the only thing I could push you in was the whip. But as I had known right from the beginning, you are not a whippy girl. And all the time you thought that my pace would be fast. You have no idea how exhausting it was to invent your scenarios, and to watch over you. What we have played in one weekend are in fact three weekends, maybe four. If I would do anything of this to my now pet, she would completely chicken out and break down utterly. Our bondage is still some plain-vanilla, increasing, but still. Our teasing and arousal play is not even about approximately close to ours right after our wedding. Only the whipping games are about to keep pace with your pace. It is no teasing when I call you a living sex-toy, and it is no teasing when I sing anthems on you and it is certainly no teasing when I refer to you as an archetype of a slave. Never a slave could make me so hot as you did, because there was not much to educate anymore, there was just play. You have been so hungry, that you were right into heavy games. And tell you what. To my opinion this was only possible because you had trained yourself by this ingenious idea to invent your own me-Mistress, and by playing this in serious earnest. You were already trained, by yourself. This very first scenario you have told me about - a bombshell. There you got it all in once! I could start right at the top. There were just some little things to adjust. And I never made you sleep on the floor because you always were so exhausted from our play that it would have been completely irresponsible not to comfort you with a real bed. This is also the reason why I made breakfast for you and not the other way around. Why I cleaned the house instead of you. And because of to take your body away from you completely, as you always had wanted it. Complete loss of any kind of control. Right? Not that I did not very much enjoy this my sweetie.

I smiled, but kept my mouth shut. This was all too astonishing to me.

And by now you certainly understand why all these little things like cleaning, dish-washing, ironing, making breakfast, cooking or sleeping on the floor etc. were never in your slavery a point, but of course in her's. This fills time of the day. I could never keep her in bondage for six hours in sequence and tease her into lunacy as with you, not yet. I only had you as a maid once. And I noted instantly that you are already beyond this. Right?"

"I would not ever have seen it this way", I uttered.

"Because you only think of yourself. You are a sweet little egoist, and by all your shy deer weakness, there is a rock-hard mind behind your forehead."

"That wanted to kill herself", I could not help to defend myself.

"Sh about that darling. This was something completely different. Also the hardest one can break down from too much pressure. What you have achieved despite your depressions is amazing." She took me in her arms and nursed me like she had done then. "I can only but apologize. I had no idea how much you are in love with me."

I kissed her and we both calmed down again.

So please darling, let this poor little pet enjoy her degrading as sleeping on the floor right at our feet like a dog. She needs this, she wants this. And she also wants to hear us making love while she herself is kept in utter chastity. Please do not argue about it. She not yet has much else to play as to be a maid or a literal pet. A little whipping there and then, a little bondage there and then, and a little chastity, but still not more. And a little orgasm there and then, if it is one. I really hope you can help her with this. It really works on her. She is so talented, so very talented, but completely uneducated. She is a raw diamond, and does not even have the slightest idea about what we had played together."

We laughed with as low a voice as possible and kissed again.

"And please, when you examine her tomorrow, please be polite. You are a shy little deer, but you have no idea how demanding you can be. That's why I thought you would also make a good Mistress. But you must learn to control yourself. Sometimes you are like a steam-locomotive on high-speed. And it is so funny that you don't even know about this. I am done now. All is said."

Her last statement rendered me speechless. Then my eyes watered and I kissed her again greedily.

We undressed and laid us down under my smooth satin sheets. With a stern voice I ordered pet in and to lay to my feet down on the carpet (it was a very smooth one). She came in grinning broadly. The snoopy little-one had heard it all. I parenthetically, as I good as I could play it, tossed a sheet over the bed-frame down on her and Sascha said "good night my sweet pet. You should wake us up tomorrow at nine o'clock, shouldn't you little-one. Breakfast shall be ready." She glittered with her eyes on me. Then we made love with each other. The poor pet only listening and dreaming about of what all was still to come for her.

In the morning the little-one, wearing her latex maid's dress woke us up with slight knocks on the open door. As she was forbidden to speak, that was all she could do. She kept on knocking, politely waiting for the Mistresses to wake up and rise from their satin sheets.

I was up first, yawned and stretched me out. "Good morning Katrin, already awake", I said. Her eyes went wide as she was obviously confused. Then it hit me. "Sorry" I said, waving my hands, "little-one. Have you slept well pet?"

The pet, obviously released, made a well-trained curtsy and smiled on me. And now I tried to be as parenthetical as I ever could. I stood up, put on a light dressing gown, passed her by and said "your Mistress is still asleep. Is my breakfast ready? Could you serve me my coffee?"

Maids must be ordered and ignored. It is a hard training for a slave that needs attention - and every slave does. Now I had her at two tasks altogether. Mean I was, but I should learn to Mistress. She had the choice of waking up her other Mistress, or to serve me coffee. What ever she would do, it could only be wrong. Now wait and see. It's a pity that I had passed by this maid's play so fast. The possibilities to hunt the maid down are nearly endless. And it is a very good starting point for advanced play from the punishment point of view.

As I was already awake while her other Mistress was still asleep, or pretended to be, she had no chance as to serve me my coffee. And indeed she hurried in her heels, passed me by and was at the table where she had made breakfast. Now I had to be fast. I must at once have a glance on what was probably missing. I walked very slowly, because she could only serve me when I had sat down.

As I was on my place she served me coffee with utmost exquisitely movements, made a curtsy - she was really well-trained - and was just about to hurry back as I, with lazy voice, and ever so parenthetically as I could, said, "and little-one, please, I do miss my fried eggs. Would you be so kind a fry me, let's say two, wouldn't you."

By her face I saw that she was in utter trouble now. First, she was not allowed to speak, not even allowed to ask for permission to. So she could not excuse herself. Second, she had received an order that she had to carry out at once and without question. And another Mistress was still dozing in her bed. And I saw that she was delighted. And I tried my utmost not to twinkle at her. I tried to be serious as hell. But I had a hard time not to laugh out loudly. Inside I was already giggling.

Yes, I thought, she is a real one. And how funny Mistressing could be.

I now had a close look at the clock in the kitchen, where she fried my eggs. And I desperately thought about something that I could order her to become even more late. Already four minutes late. I had to find something. I closely looked at the table. Yes, I accidentally would drop my cutlery down just when she was about to serve me my eggs. I could reprehend her for her stupidity and - wait. And if she was not about to bring me fresh cutlery at once.... . I already pitied the poor girl. But when my fantasy had sprung to life, then nobody could stop me. But then I thought about the steam-locomitive and found that I then would be done with her. No further distraction. The poor little-one.

As she came back with my fried eggs I pretended to be angry about her: I impatiently click-clacked my fingernails on the table. As she was just about to serve me, again with her absolute exquisiteness, the plate with my fried eggs, I indeed took up my cutlery from the table. I moved it towards the plate that she served me in this very moment, let both hit and let it out of my grab. As I had hastily estimated by checking the angles, the cutlery must land down on the floor just in between her beautiful legs. When the cutlery came down with a metallic sound she stood stiff. I looked up to her, she already completely out of her composure, and with pleading eyes she shook her head no. That meant that she was so sorry and had not intended this stupid thing. It was of course out of question that this would have been my fault - but we both knew very well that it was.

"Stupid-one", I had to stop speaking at once, because my inside giggling already gurgled up my throat. She was so distracted by now, that she was about to mess up my fried eggs on the floor, too. To help her, but pretending to be harsh, I snatched the plate from her hand. She sighed. I then looked up to her again and waited.

Now think little-one I thought, please. As she seemed to have a little blackout I helped her out by pointing down on the cutlery, as parenthetical as I ever could. I had to stay utterly silent now. By opening my mouth I would outburst into giggle. And that neither would fair nor would it be in character. I had to pretend to be angry now. I was already making faces in the need to giggle. The distracted maid got down instantly to take up the cutlery. Now she had herself back. Puh I thought.

She hurried back into the kitchen and was about to fetch me new cutlery with all the speed her heels would allow her - and of course her must be exquisite movements - as the not so amused voice of her second Mistress sounded out of the bedroom. "Maid!"

By the clock in the kitchen it was now six, maybe seven past nine. Heavy trouble for a maid , which had to be and without any excuses, right on the point. She brought me my cutlery, made a curtsy to me, and hurried up against the bedroom. I had not the slightest idea how to judge her face. It was fear in it, it was complete distraction in it, her eyes obviously wet. At first I had seen delight, and perhaps some arousal. But now? Oh my god, hopefully I had not pushed too far already. Stupid steam-engine I blamed me. And then I could not hold on my giggle anymore. I felt so mean. I held my hand before my mouth until I would calm again.

I took a sip of my coffee, just about to spoil it with giggling, and lit me a cigarette then. That would help me. And I would not want to be distracted by eating, I wanted to watch all what was now to come. The maid would certainly bring me fresh eggs later.

The real Mistress now pretended to be mad at her poor maid. What she would dare not to wake her up at time, where her dress gown would be (she had none with her) and why the curtains were still closed. What had so nice begun a Saturday morning for this really exquisite and perfect maid was now only devastation. Two Mistresses to serve at once, and both angry by now.

The real Mistress, from somewhere out of her bags, had produced her riding crop. She literally drove the maid up in front of her through the corridor right towards the table where I sat, smoking and watching. Sascha was obviously not blowing hard and the maid did really not miss a fast pace in her heels. As the maid stood right at the table, stiff, with her hands behind her back, head down and sniffing and weeping I could hardly stand it. But I knew that it was okay when Sascha played it this way.

The poor maid, she could not even defend herself. No speech allowed ever.

The real Mistress began. "You are a complete stupid-one maid, aren't you. So let us count down my pet. Eight minutes too late, plus no dress gown for me, nine, plus the curtains still closed, ten. This is really enough for a nice Saturday's morning isn't it pet."

Then she looked at me. As the maid could not see Sascha, because she was behind the poor little thing, she raised her flat hand up to indicate that I should add to this number.

I had to clear my throat, because I really was into pity. "Well" I said, and had to clear again, "she had served my eggs too late and she also has messed up my cutlery." I did not want to tell how stubborn the poor little-one had reacted on all that.

"Well", Sascha said, this is about twelve, maid. "Is there anything to defend yourself, maid", She asked. The maid shook her head no. She was shivering by now, tears running down her face.

"It is well-done maid that you obviously regret your stupid mistakes. Mistress hopes that this will teach you a lesson for the future. But whatever about, you deserve a punishment for your stupidity. Twelve blows each. Do you accept this punishment maid?"

The maid nodded yes, her eyes still utterly down on the floor.

"Hold your skirt up maid, and turn to the window", Sascha ordered. The maid did as ordered. Sascha waved me with her hand to come over to her and held the riding crop to me.

I shook my head, I could not do that. She came up to me and whispered in my ear, "just some medium-soft blows. You must practice in order to become a Mistress."

I whispered back "I cannot do this. I do not know what medium-soft is and I pity this poor little-one."

"She is not to pity, she is in bliss by now. Do not ruin it for her. She deserves it, she wants it."

Sascha showed me on the back of one hand what medium soft would mean.

"Some harder strokes thus", I asked with low voice.

"Yes. If you are unsure, better more. She will forgive you."

I sighed and stood up. I weighted the crop in my hand and found the best place to take it. I measured the length of my arm with crop to the maid's back cheeks that were so invitingly waiting for me to act. The distance was about right. And I set down the first blow, my eyes nearly closing. The maid reacted with a soft sigh. Sascha indicated that I should do a little more intense. The little more intense blow got down on the other cheek, the maid still sighed. I had absolutely now idea.

Harder, Sascha indicated me. I sighed and hit down somewhat harder. The maid began to sigh a little more intense. And still harder I went, but with slow intervals only. As the maid was about to moan, I felt that I was right.

"And now", Sascha ordered me, because I was still only the Mistress-trainee, "twelve blows in this very intensity."

As by her moaning the little-one really seemed to like it. It felt strange to me, but it felt good.

Sascha had counted up to twelve and I stopped at once.

"Now turn around maid, hands behind your back", she ordered.

The maid turned around instantly. Her face obviously not sad anymore. Her eyes were twinkling and shiny.

Unimpressed, Sascha kept her stern voice. And than to me, "go on, twelve", she ordered me. But I really could not. The maid looked at me, encouragingly. Okay, twelve blows right on her breasts. In the same intensity. Here we go. As the maid moaned out loud I felt somewhat secure and did my twelve blows.

"Now thank your Mistress", Sascha ordered. The maid knelt down in front of me, on her lower legs, bowed down and kissed my feet. Then she got up again. Suppressing a bright smile.

"Off you go to your duties" Sascha said and wove her away with her hand. After serving her a cup of coffee with a curtsy, the maid hurried up for the bedroom.

In fact, the person with the most stress this morning was me.

We sat down at the table. Coffee and eggs cold by now. I ate them nonetheless.

"How was it", Sascha asked.

"Well" I said and lit another cigarette, "it felt strange. I was so worried that I would hurt her. An it is really not easy just to blow with the top only. But I cannot say that it although not felt good. Somehow."

"The whip is an art", Sascha said, "and maids are perfect training material", she added. "There is always something to be found to put a little bit of stick about."

"But this is not the same as you had treated me, is it", I asked.

"No", she replied. "I also try to rise her pain-pleasure levels a bit, carefully. So far it works, but who knows. I do not think that she is a real whippy girl."

"And there was no other stimulation", I questioned.

"Stupid-one", she teased me, "the stimulation was the complete ruined situation she was in. I was also awake when you left the bed. I just waited. When you had begun to order her around, she certainly did blossom with joy. As you ordered her into the kitchen her day was saved, because she knew instantly that she would be punished. The question then only was how much she would get."

"This is somehow not my play", I sighed.

"Because you only think between your legs, all the time. The largest sexual organ is the brain, not the cunt. And you simply must stop to think only in the intensity we were playing with.

"Hm", I said. And then I told her about the maids blackout with the cutlery. "Was this overload" I asked.

"No, she can take this. She is well-trained a maid. Look how awesome she is moving. Like a Goddess. What did you do right before that blackout.?"

"I snatched the plate with the eggs out of her hands because she was about to drop it. I wanted to help her."

"You helped her to blackout stupid-one. She recognized the situation in one second, saw possibilities and tried to enhance it. You had ruined this and she was out of script. She wanted to drop the plate! By this you can see how amazing her play is. It is completely real, and her feelings too. She is quite a talent."

We stopped talking out of character as the maid came back. She had done our bedroom by now. After approaching the table she remained silent at her place, waiting for orders, hands behind her back.

The maid's play went one for quite some time. The most stupid order Sascha had given her has been to fetch a spoon from the cupboard. As the maid brought the spoon with a curtsy, Sascha was upset. The spoon was of course the wrong one, stupid-one. If the maid is about punishment again? Curtsy again, and off went the maid, spoon back, other spoon brought, curtsy and the wrong spoon again, curtsy etc.

I was about to laugh out again.

"Do not laugh, this is a serious play, for both of us, her and me. If you cannot stand it, please go away, you would ruin it. I want to give her the opportunity for some extra blows. Her brain is now on overdrive in order to search for an opportunity to mess it all up, but with exquisiteness. And if I only count the wrong spoons. By now we have five."

"You really think of everything. I always admired this. I could not do this. I am too much an egoist, you are right" I whispered and the maid passed by with her sixth wrong spoon.

"You will learn darling. Just watch the signs. It is quite the same as with your psychological exercise. Be just there, watch and then act" she whispered back.

Suddenly I had an idea. "May I try something", I asked.

"Just do. As for the maid it can only make it worse." She grinned, and these tantalizing predatory eyes were back.

"Maid", I commanded, and the maid stood still at once. "The right spoon is in the bathroom, stupid-one!

"Thank you", Sascha whispered to me "good idea!"

Curtsy and off went the maid in her ever so sexy exquisite pace to the bathroom. After some while she came back, looking sad, shaking her head no. Eyes again pleading. As I now knew, they were pleading for more. And it is completely out of question that a Mistress was wrong. Now I was in game again.

"Stupid little-one. You put it there yesterday. Wait here, I'll fetch it. Me, as your Mistress doing your work. Ridiculous!"

Even Sascha had not noticed that I had a spoon under my hand. Pretending to be angry I walked to the bathroom fast, went in and came out with the spoon.

"Here it is, stupid-one. Where by good god do you have your eyes?"

The maid bowed down her head and sobbed.

She was in for a punishment again, twelve blows each. Seven for seven times a wrong spoon and five because a Mistress had to do her work. I applied the blows, twelve on the cheeks, twelve on the breasts. I was feeling much more secure this time and the maid smiled again. After the maid had thanked me we went on the balcony and let the maid do her work in peace.

"See what I mean, she will be busy until about noon, cleaning all. And as long we have not taken our showers and she could clean the bathroom, she is not out of duty. It consumes time. And in all this time I kept you, had to keep you, under heavy treatment. You have been so helpless in our sessions that I could not take away even a single eye from you. Until she is ripe for this, it will take years. And she is having a good session right now. Twice a punishment. You had really a good idea."

We stayed on the balcony until noon. Secretly, we observed the maid standing on attention in my living-room, completely ignored.

"Now she is still hot about this. But sometimes this becomes boring", Sascha noted, "then she is ripe to advance."

"I never would have been a maid", I mused. "What about her orgasms?"

"Right you are. We should shower now, let her clean and then give her a rest out of play-mode. And then you will have her."

"I thought about this, well, frigidity. This can be serious. I do not want to treat this in play-mode, I need the real person."

"When you say so. Maybe the little-one will not like this. But what about a slaves opinion."

Both we laughed again, and went showering together.

The maid had even prepared sandwiches for lunch. After the bathroom was cleaned we had lunch together out of play-mode. Katrin praised me for the blows I had given her. For a first time whipping, they would have been quite good. When I began to talk about her special problem I suggested that we should take care about this in real-life mode. Katrin looked a little sad, she had hoped for a new fantasy. But I argued that, at least at the beginning, I would prefer to talk to the real person. When possible, we could easily switch to play-mode anytime.

And then I wanted to know if this poor little-one ever has had a real orgasm in her life. I somehow had the suspicion that this would not be the case. I asked her frankly to describe how it would feel when she was about cumming, and how it felt while she was approaching. After her description I was sure that this poor girl never has had a real orgasm. I lit up a cigarette, inhaled and took one of her hands. Then I explained this to her, in a very caring tone. She was, of course stunned.

"You certainly have tried the Hitachi?"

"Only once", Sascha told me, "but pet could not stand it, even with the lower level."

"And you never have tried to use a dimmer", I insisted, looking at her, my eyes stern on her's, reduced to aggressive slits.

"Well no", she admitted, "I never got the idea."

"Stupid-one", I upbraided her.

"Well you are the nerd of both us", Sascha snapped back on me. But of course she knew that I was right.

I petted Katrin's hand. "You will have your orgasm, sweetie. You just have to learn to surrender completely. Tell me, when you play the pet, are you wet down there?"

She told me that she was aroused, but not wet. I asked her about the maid. Yes, she would be wet, certainly.

"And how intense is the need", I asked.

"Well", she replied, "of course it is there, but it easily can be distracted by my maid's duties. I get wet right before a punishment."

Again I looked at Sascha, and shook my head.

"You are right away a very good observer, my darling."

She kept her mouth shut.

To Katrin. "Look sweetie, while you play the maid, your arousal should slowly but steadily increase into a craving and then become nearly unbearable. And the punishment should further increase the need, not reduce it. This is the name of the game. This is the name of all games. Why else should we then play them, except for the utter need to play them. Why else should you be kept in chastity? Because it is a nice piece of jewelry?"

"You are thinking on your scale again", Sascha tried to slow me down.

I looked at her. "Concerning orgasm, my scale is the only scale. Maybe you never have had one yourself." I was really angry by now. This ever so poor girl.

I took on the poor girl's hand and walked her to my playroom. Sascha followed us. I got my dimmer and explained, "I use this on me for under-threshold stimulation, in order to torment me. But my under-threshold is certainly in your present over-threshold range."

I took one of my Hitachi's, connected it to the dimmer and ordered Sascha to free Katrin from her chastity belt. She did as ordered.

Sorry for this to be somewhat clinical, "I apologized, "but it is all for your best. I guarantee it."

Katrin nodded. She spread her legs on my sign and she was as dry as the desert.

"I think we change into play-mode, it might be easier, okay?" Katrin nodded yes.

I ordered her on the bondage bed, to spread her arms and legs and I bound her spread-eagled to the bed, as strict as possible. Then I examined her again. A little-bit I thought. I then ordered Sascha to tease Katrin with the crop in order to get her as wet and aroused as possible.

"And pet", I mentioned, "you have full permission to speak. You must report us, yes."

"Yes, Mistress", she replied obediently.

"Ah, and pet", most young people make the utter mistake to think the approach should be somewhat fast. This is bullshit nonsense. Let me assure you cordially, the longer it takes, the better it is. I myself sometimes can cum as fast as a man, and sometimes it takes me half an hour, sometimes even longer. There is absolutely no need to set yourself under pressure, yes. Just relish, just enjoy."

The little-one nodded. I had the suspicion that time-pressure would also be a serious part of the problem. For most young women it is.

Sascha did her expertly job with the crop, teasing and blowing until Katrin was moaning loud and biting down on her lips, trying to rub her head on her spread out arm.

"How do you feel", I asked her.

"Good Mistress, I think that I am ready now."

I petted her breasts and Sascha told me that this was the maximum stimulation level the little-one can reach. But still the Hitachi would be too strong.

I put a stand on the bed, fixing the Hitachi right on her clit. I set it on high to have the full range. As the dimmer was on zero, that did not do anything. I slowly tuned up the dimmer, observing the little-one.

"More please, Mistress", she pleaded, and there she got it.

When I thought I had here moaning from the stimulation, I made a mark on the dimmer and wrote a 0(starting) behind it. It was about half of the lower level of the Hitachi. Then I looked at my watch to mention the start-time. As I tried to pace up a little, she shook her head no. I tuned down a little and waited patiently. When I felt that the little-one had adjusted a bit, I began to very slowly increase the level and observed her right away. At some point she closed her eyes and seemed to get somewhat lost in her feelings. I made a mark on the dimmer and wrote 1(escalating, ~ 13 min.).

About an quarter of an hour later the lower level of the Hitachi was reached. Pet had again opened her eyes and was crying out that she could not stand it anymore. Mistress should stop please. I shook my head no and ordered Sascha to lie down besides the little-one to give her some comfort. On the dimmer I noted 2(edge, ~ 28 min.). The little-one was crying out heavily her No's, but I had no mercy. She finally must have her orgasm, I thought. It would be cruel to stop now.

The approach was slow. After some ten minutes later, about twenty percent above the lower level of the Hitachi, the little-one got lost again and then, out of a sudden she was shaking heavily in her bonds, trying to rear up from the extreme strain in her muscles, crying out as if she would be killed and obviously exploded shortly after this into a massive orgasm that rolled all over her body. She literally roared her lungs out. I made a mark on the dimmer and wrote O(~ 38 min.).

It had taken about forty minutes to ramp up the little-one into orgasm. I switched off the joystick. The little-one was breathing heavily, her eyes closed, luxuriating in the afterglow and with the ever so broad smile of true release all over her face. She was in pure real bliss for the first time of her life. We loosened her bonds and waited patiently for her to dive up again. She was dripping from sweat all over her body. It took her about some long minutes to dive up again and to calm down. At some time she opened her eyes. With a soft smile I bowed down to her and whispered into her ear, "now this my sweet little-one is an orgasm." Her eyes just laughed at me. I was proud of myself. Maybe I should write a book about it.

We both helped her up to sit on the bed. She was totally spent. Not to wonder about after forty minutes time for her first real ride.

When she was ready to stand up again, she stood up, but instantly fell down on her knees in front of me and kissed my feet. She looked up to me and said, totally in tears, "Oh my sweet Mistress, thank you so much. This girl is in your debt for as long as she ever will live." I petted her head and ordered her up again.

"And this now little-one is what you want to have while kept in chastity. This is what, from now on, you will need utterly and it will make you mad when you are denied it. This is what either the pet or the maid wants to have. This is your drive into obedience. You are already very obedient, but you have no idea how obedient you can be when you are driven by the overwhelming need to be allowed to orgasm."

And to Sascha, handing her over the dimmer, "you should keep a little statistics on her. Now you should shut down this chastity play and make her used to orgasms until she is ripe for real chastity. Okay?"

She said "Yes", and she also thanked me, her eyes wet.

"This little-one will now become your most indebted slave ever", I told her, "not me anymore", and I smiled broadly. And whispering in her ear, "this girl is totally and forever yours now. Keep her, don't be too responsible again, she is grown up. And by the way, she will now progress much faster. This is the one and only carrot."

She nodded yes.

We came to consent that we would stop playing for the rest of the day. The girl needed to recover. After Katrin had taken her shower we dressed all up and called a taxi to downtown. I knew a shop where to buy a muzzle-gag, my second present to the little-one. My first present of this day had been the Hitachi that had made her cum. And we both her Mistresses meant that she really was in for her other present too. I do not want to advertise for the shop here, but it was an Italian couturier. The type of costume and the other stuff of the outfit was available, the measures just had to be changed. They would tailor the changes and send it right to Dresden.

At the seaside we sat down in a cafe, having coffee in Austrian style and a Swiss cherry torte. I saw that the little-one had some questions for me. I patiently waited for her daring to ask.

"When I may ask", Katrin began, "and you can have this about eight times in series. I cannot imagine how. One already is almost too much for me."

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. "We all have our weaknesses my dear. But after you got used to it, who knows. For some the first one is irritating, for some even frightening, for some it is just a completely mindblowing bliss. After my first real one I instantly knew what I was to be about. But like everything on earth, it must be learned by experience. Happy orgasm training pet." And I smiled again.

To feast on this day we remained in the cafe and, forgetting about our waistlines, we ordered and Austrian fence-torte and coffee again. By coffee, cigarettes and chit-chatting the evening approached all too fast. As the cafe also offered light supper, we stayed until eight o'clock in the evening, still sitting by the seaside.

After a little walk to make amends for our torte-sins we took a taxi home. At home we watched some movies until it was about time to go to bed. In this night an ever so happy pet lied down to our feet on the floor and surely slept very well. In her chastity-belt, of course, to prevent her to do stupid things.

The next morning the two Mistresses feasted on the maid and literally hunted her down. As I now had fully understood this game I began to really enjoy it without feeling sorry for the poor little-one. The maid earned herself three punishments, twenty blows each, and I could train with the crop. We all did really come at our expenses.

Before Sascha and me went to luxuriate on the balcony the maid was informed that she would be granted an orgasm if, but only if, she would clean so meticulously that one literally could eat lunch from the floor. As she would have to do this anyway, she would have a really good challenge. The maid's eyes flooded with joy instantly and off she got to her duties.

The maid had overall done a very good job. The Mistresses had lunch at the table, the maid kneeling at our feet and waiting. The maid had prepared canapés for lunch, so it was easy to eventually let drop down a mouthful on the floor where an extremely well-behaving maid licked it up greedily. She was not allowed to use her hands. The maid should not be too hungry, but she should certainly be as wet between her legs as she possibly could.

After lunch Mistress and maid went off to the maid's orgasm training. I did not join them, because I had something to prepare that I wanted to show them.

9. Epilogue

So finally I have become a Mistress. Who would ever have thought about this. Certainly not me. But tormenting somebody else can be fun, too.

But as I, because of my injuries from that goofed suicide, are not able to practice heavy (self)-bondage anymore, I had found an approximately good substitute with light, but inescapable bondage. And I finally have found my ultimate toy, an easy computer program steering one or two of my Hitachi's by an USB-connection.

Happily ever after? Well, at least somehow. For happily ever after I would have to be Sascha's girl still. But what about.

Katrin is not only a real submissive, she is also a clever one. After she had obtained her Master of Arts degree I could arrange, well with some tricks, for her a position as an interpreter with my bank. So all three of us finally ended up in Zurich. Ironically Sascha, the real Mistress, has to care of the household now, while the slave and the then been slave and now Mistress-trainee go to work and earn the money.

10. Present to the reader

All my bondage-life I have looked for something that could make a self-bondage session really interesting. Interesting is of course the stimulation, at least in my case. But I had not found anything that would serve my needs. The stories about randomly switching vibes seemed to be mostly fiction. There was nothing on the real market to be found that even only approximately would equal such devices. And the stories where the bondagee had invented some machines and had them custom made for her plays (mostly it is a her) were but nice, enticing and certainly seductive fantasies. But still only fantasies. And I wanted this for me, and for real. And, as I had said somewhere above, there was of course the possibility to tackle the problem with an Arduino board or something similar. But this is still something for the electronic nerd and not for the mathematics nerd. And at some day I had found it:

The Switchbox is an USB-controlled socket that can be steered directly from your computer. And the Switchbox can be bought at:

This allows you to steer your Hitachi, in the case that you are into my games.

To control the Switchbox, I have written myself a program. This program has five basic units that are combined to 34 scenarios that are chosen randomly. You can download it at:

Search the script site for Andrea and you will find me. Be careful when you experiment with it. It literally can blow you into deep space. And you of course can adjust all the stimulation times to your own needs. The version I have posted is somewhat a tuned down one. Happy orgasm!

And with this program I will also provide you with my ice-release system. I have indeed calculated what I have told about above in the story. It can be applied with an ordinary calculator only, and a measure tape. And it will work almost exactly. Happy ice-release!

To be honest, I have to admit that the basic work for my program was already done by a girl named Diana, which is also posting on deviatenow. She is in the same games like me.

The End
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