by Ruby Madden
A brilliant man, I was forever grateful for having first made his acquaintance and then the exquisite training he’d bestowed upon me.
Temperance, patience, and foresight.
He’d repeated these words to me many, many times over the years. More importantly, he’d shown the way.
It was he who explained that the element of time was just as important for the Dominant and submissive dynamic as the element of trust. Timing before a scene or session, the timing during it and the timing after it. The power of playing with expectation and making a submissive wait.
Anticipate.
I heard Henry escorting Ethan in and quietly stepped away so that he could be delivered to his pillow. The ottoman sat directly in front of his kneeling spot so that he would see what today’s session would be about.
{ ethan }
There they lay. Her tools of ownership.
I wasn’t sure which one had a more powerful effect on my ego. The sight of them together was pivotal. My masculinity both craved and repelled what they meant. A deeper need within kept me in pose, quiet and waiting. Another need had me trembling in anticipation.
Either way, regardless, I was about to become hers.
Her pet.
Her puppy.
Her willing slave and worshipper.
Time crept slowly and cruelly forward. There was a ticking clock that I could hear as the minutes passed.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
I must have waited at least a half hour for her.
I heard the commanding click of her boots when she entered the space. She stood before me, towering over me.
“Ethan. Today, you officially become mine.”
I remained silent. This wasn’t a question. It was a statement. I knew to remain quiet and subservient.
She crouched before me and tilted my face upwards with one finger under my chin.
“Puppy, do you crave the honor of being collared and cock-caged by your Mistress?” She asked.
She held my gaze directly. I felt entranced by her. I was swimming in the loveliness of her green eyes.
“Yes, Mistress. I’m completely willing and ready.”
“Good, than we shall proceed.” She said, looking away.
She picked up the cock-cage first. “Stand Ethan.”
I stood. She put on the cock-cage quickly and did nothing to arouse me. No stimulation, just very practical handling of my family jewels and flaccid cock. Once satisfied that it was in place, she stepped back and studied it intently.
I cringed a bit, feeling the weight of it encompassing my manhood. It was an intense sensation. Her first tool of ownership in place, I felt something inside me shift. A deep, hidden need to be controlled. Owned.
She then looked at my face, noting what I imagined to be a look of peaceful surrender. She seemed pleased.
“Kneel.” She commanded.
I knelt. She set about placing the gorgeous steel collar about my neck. It was masculine, made of polished steel and the weight of it delighted my neck.
I felt so owned, so possessed. I was truly, hers.
I wanted to reach up and touch it with my hands, but I knew better than to make a move without her permission. She clipped a metal, chain-link collar to it and tugged playfully.
The sensation of both on my body was immensely pleasurable in the oddest way. They were just heavy enough to lay claim to me. It was an amazing feeling.
She stepped away and sat down on the chaise lounge across the room.
“My god you look amazingly beautiful, Ethan.”
I heard the admiring purr in her voice. She was indeed proud, admiring me, her male specimen from across the room.
“I shall sit here and admire my new pet puppy for the remainder of our session. Henry will explain to you the details to proper care for my cock-cage that I’ve placed on you. As you know, the collar can be removed due to the practical matter of going about your business and life. However, at any time that you are able to wear it, I command that you do. Understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.” I said.
My cock was already attempting an erection. It strained against its cage. It was an unbelievable sensation to be denied its natural conclusion.
“The cock-cage is non-negotiable however. It will remain on you at all times. I hold the key and will only release you from it when I see fit to do so. Understand?” She stated.
“Yes, Mistress.” My voice was quivering.
I could feel her gaze from across the room. A warmth spread through me. A type of erotic peace of mind. A calmness.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
The clock ticked on for another half hour. The entire time, I could feel her gaze caressing me from across the room. My erection strained against its new cage nearly the entire time. I thought I was going to pass out. I stayed in position, however. I fought my own body’s need to relax, to not pose. But I remained exactly as she had left me.
When the session was over, she simply stood up and walked away. She didn’t say a single word. She didn’t need to. She’d said plenty sitting there in commanding silence, her eyes grazing over my body.
Henry was a perfect gentleman as always and led me into the bathroom to explain in greater detail the level of care I would need to place in keeping myself clean. Also, the very practical matter of urinating.
He shared that I could contact him at any time I needed his assistance and that he was made available to me twenty-four hours a day for this purpose, as needed. I admired how he addressed me and my situation, as if I were a patient with a medically necessary contraption. He was completely polite, respectful and neutral.
I was grateful.
{ MISTRESS }
Gris rested his head on his paws, his eyebrows alternating in an expressive arch of nervous concern and trepidation. He let out a low whine-rumble.
He wanted me to get up and leave so he could make his move.
We’d been sitting this way for nearly an hour. His cage door was open. The treat laid before me in a doggy dish. They were his for the taking, if he would just inch forward and take them.
I talked softly to him, but didn’t attempt to reach for him. I needed to get his collar on before I left the animal shelter. If I didn’t, he would be identified as a lost cause. I didn’t want this to happen and was already flirting with the idea of taking him home and keeping him.
Just when I thought I’d have to give up for the day, he oh so quickly reached for one of the treats, and scooted back quickly, gobbling it down in a nervous hurry.
I smiled.
I placed another treat in the doggy dish.
Sure enough, he came forward and ate it. This time, instead of retreating back to his cage, he flopped down on the floor, watching me with a keen gaze.
The third treat was the final challenge. I placed it in my palm and extended my hand. Everything a dog needs to know about a human is in our scent. If he grazed my hand, that meant he trusted me. Considering the harm done to him by other human hands, I knew this was a longshot.
“Come on Gris. Just one more treat. All yours.” I said affectionately.
He let out the longest whine but then relented and took the treat from my palm.
Success!!!
I would have danced around if it wouldn’t have startled him. Now was not the time for sudden movements. Instead, I continued talking to him softly, explaining what I was about to do. Put his collar on him.
This continued for another five minutes and I gingerly picked up his collar. I reached slowly, to pet his head and ears. Much to my delight, he allowed me. I took my time, making sure to move slowly and calmly. A minute later, his collar was fastened.
I sucked in a big breath, nice and slow. Relieved and elated.
I reached into my velvet jumpsuit’s front pocket and pulled out his final treat for the day.
“Such a good boy, you are. Gris is a good boy…” I said while petting his head and extending my h
and.
He took it and crunched, looking at me with the scrutiny that only a canine beast possesses. The bond between us was cemented and his life saved. Gris would live to see another week. No animal perished on my watch, not if I had anything to do with it.
{ ethan }
I had my collar on.
I was naked and cock-caged.
On my knees and in the most recent pose Mistress had commanded of me. It’d been two hours since I’d arrived for a session dedicated solely to obedience training.
“Tonight is about obedience school, puppy…” She’d whispered seductively in my ear at the beginning of our session.
Mistress Cherry had made it very clear that most of the next several sessions were devoted to me being trained, groomed and handled. She explained that she was creating an automatic response trigger. Just from her voice, a gesture, a stance, a motion or a command. That it would ensure my complete submission, easing the way for us to gain more from the sessions.
Kneel, stand, sit, down, learn, inspection and pleasure.
We were cycling through the positions and she was using her voice, her stance, her riding crop to keep me focused and mindful of my training. Each change in pose revealed the layers of her control that she was entrenching into my psyche.
A confining blanket of surrender.
Being taught submissive obedience mostly seemed awkward rather than embarrassing or shameful. This I hadn’t anticipated. Kneeling there, I wondered what those in my professional circle would think of me if they saw me now? Then I remembered – many of them most likely had their own Mistress.
The awareness of my breathing, my body, the posing was immense. We cycled through them for the entire session. She seemed satisfied, but I wasn’t entirely sure. It kept me guessing since she hadn’t uttered one word of approval the entire time.
Thankfully, she hadn’t uttered any displeasure, so I was operating on the premise that ‘no news is good news’.
I didn’t have permission to look at her face or to glance upwards. It amazed me how much I wanted to simply look at her, admiringly and how that one simple desire of mine – she held in her hand, at her whim with utter control. Mistress barely allowed me the simple pleasure of glancing at her, in the face, making direct eye contact. I craved it, I needed it. I decided to do it, make the mistake of doing it.
When I did it, she was peering a bit out the window, her profile firm, feminine and calm. Upon realizing my transgression, she cocked her head to the side and held my gaze.
“Slave, what exactly are you doing?” She asked.
The way she locked her eyes with mine made me falter. Not just with admiration for her sexy beauty, but for the flutter in my heart. I felt a wave of devotion and desire coil in me and through me, coalescing to my loins. My cock strained against its chastity cage. I grimaced a bit, realizing that the consequences for this simple transgression may be immense.
I lowered my head. “My apologies, Mistress. I forgot myself,” I said softly.
She stepped towards me. My pulse started to race. Her hand fidgeted with the riding crop, she flexed it slightly, then tapped it against her curvy thigh. I breathed deep, inhaling her scent and wanting to bury my face in her. Anywhere on her body, it mattered not what part.
“Slave, would you like to see my dungeon?” She asked gently.
She’d yet allowed me to touch her, to reach out and feel her, to caress her or feel her skin of my own free will. I wanted nothing more than to worship her, with every inch of my being and manhood.
“Yes, very much so Mistress.” My voice cracked a bit beneath the weight of my desire.
Instead of responding, she clicked a chain-leash to my collar and then pushed my torso and face forward and down to the floor.
“Crawl Ethan. Follow me.” She said, gently yanking on my chain.
She moved just fast enough to make me have to awkwardly find a pace to keep up with her. She led me into a large adjacent room where our entire world suddenly changed. A very heavy, thick, velvet, brocade type of material was at the entrance and she lifted it while pushing it aside momentarily to allow me to enter.
She led me to a central spot in the room. I already knew that everything had completely shifted before I was granted permission to take in my new surroundings.
“You may look up and around, puppy. Take your time…” She purred.
I was in her Dungeon. If only I’d known what was behind mystery door # three… The room was exceptionally large and all of it was utilized in glorious pain/pleasure devices and contraptions of every kind that one could imagine.
Rich hues of burgundy, cherry and a red-tone purple were complimented by slave devices in sleek black. Heavy brocade material hung floor-to-ceiling over the windows that would reveal the Seattle skyline if pushed aside or opened, no one the wiser that a Dominatrix had her own elevated dungeon in the heavens.
There was a St. Andrew’s cross, heavy and ominous.
An elegant and sturdy, human-sized bird-cage with a swinging center for sitting was hoisted from the ceiling and swayed ever so slightly from the steel beam it was suspended from. A sturdy two-step stool sat nearby, waiting for the submissive who would be commanded to climb into the large cage.
She’d followed my gaze and let out an evil giggle. “That is for all of my pretty boys. Sometimes, I just enjoy admiring you, naked and helpless.”
On the other side of the room, there was a Queen’s throne chair. Something I’d only ever read about. Just as regal as I’d ever imagined one to be, intimidating too. It had the appearance of an antique.
“That one is for decoration as it is quite valuable.” She said, then pointing her riding crop behind me.
I turned my head to follow where the tip of her crop was pointing. Sure enough, a more modern version sat waiting for a Mistress to sit upon, the space below dedicated for a worthy slave or servant to please her orally. A cushion was provided for the slave’s head, probably both to serve for comfort as well as to allow the slave’s mouth and face to reach and tend to his Queen’s glorious pussy.
It was both thrilling and terrifying. Adrenaline was coursing through my body in anticipation. My heart-rate was up and I started to sweat. Time seemed to be squeezing in on me, my breathing shifting.
I took in a deep, steadying breath. Just as she’d taught me to do.
“Good boy. Keep breathing deeply. Take your time absorbing all the possibilities of this play-space. Our play-space.” She said calmly and softly, putting me at ease. “Our session is coming to an end today, but I wanted you to have something to look forward to.”
I gulped, “Yes, Mistress.”
“You may remain in here for the next ten to fifteen minutes, but don’t touch anything. Look as much as you please. When your time is up, Henry will escort you down, as usual.”
“Thank you, Mistress.” I answered in gratitude.
She exited the dungeon and I remained in reverent silence, looking at everything with a hungry anticipation I could barely grasp. It was like being in a toy-store and a candy-shop, all on Christmas day. I felt I could faint from excitement.
I’d always known that such places existed, but to actually be inside one, so tenderly cared for and carnally pure in its utilitarian purpose, was blowing my mind.
{ MISTRESS }
We were halfway done with our meal, each of us having had a few glasses of wine before I broached the subject weighing on my mind.
“So, kink. What’s your stance on it?” I asked.
Damien looked up abruptly, certainly caught off guard, but intrigued.
“Kink?”
I smiled, “Yes, kink. What are your thoughts and feelings about it?” I asked again, a devious smile on my face.
He leaned back in his chair a bit, tilted his head and peered at me with increasing curiosity. “Is this a trick question, Cherry?” He asked, smiling.
“Absolutely not. I’m kink-friendly when it co
mes to intimate relations. Are you?” I revealed, closely watching his reaction.
He seemed intrigued and surprised. In a good way.
“I like to play. I like kink.” He answered.
“Good.” I said.
Our server reappeared offering to refresh our wine. I nodded, taking lead to observe Damien’s reaction. One of his eyebrow’s rose and I saw comprehension begin to bloom across his handsome ebony features.
Once the server left our dining space, Damien gazed at me, a knowing smile on his lips. “You enjoy leading. Being on top. In charge of the dynamic.”
I nodded ever-so-slightly. “I do. You could even say it’s a way of life for me.”
He bit his lower lip, a look of excitement in his eyes. Damien leaned forward. “I like a woman who can take charge. They’re incredibly rare…” He said, admiringly.
“I know.” I said, winking at him. “Perhaps that’s why you were drawn to me?” I asked.
“Actually, yes. It is part of the reason I’m attracted to you…” He murmured quietly. Seductively.
We sat in silence assessing one another. The temperature in the dining space felt as if it had increased about ten degrees, the sexual tension between us was so taught and intense. Having it fully revealed was a relief.
I decided it was best to get all of my cards out on the table, as it were. I needed to be mindful of our professional connection. Create a space removed from it so that there could be an agreement, an understanding.
Since this was a true dating dynamic and not a client arrangement, I needed to be open and honest with him. To the point. Direct and take charge.
“I would like to connect with you intimately. Ongoing. But there are certain things you need to know.” I started to share and explain.
“Such as…”
“I play at a very high level, consensually of course. I have an idea, and it would require your genuine interest.”
Damien seemed more intrigued than scared or put-off. This was a good sign.
“I’m a big boy, Cherry. I can handle it.” He said.
