Never Let Me Go

It has been several years since I’ve kept a personal slave, so I was bound to forget something. I had to call poor Adam at work to let him know when he needed to be home tonight. I think I flustered him, which is to be expected, but a Mistress doesn’t apologize, she rewards. I gave Adam until 7 o’clock, because he had things to collect from his home and arrangements to make, and now I am waiting for him in a red silk negligee, hoping that he will arrive in the next ten minutes. One never likes to start out an evening with punishment.

Eleven minutes later, I hear the front door unlocking and opening, followed by quick footsteps moving towards my sitting room. Adam popped his head through the door and then walked in carrying a few bags, smiling at me as if he were a husband returning home from a business trip.

“You’re late,” I informed him.

Adam glanced at the clock. His eyes narrowed and his smile straightened out into tight-lipped annoyance.

That is the reason why I no longer keep a personal slave. It is the transition they must make each night from their normal selves into what they are for me. Something about it bothers me. I have known many slaves intimately in my home that I would never recognize or even like in the outside world. And I prefer it that way, because no man will ever adore me the way a slave does in those tender moments when they have surrendered everything. But Adam chose me and I will not give him back to Christine, even if I have to prompt Adam to make that shift every night.

“Go put your things away and meet me in the dinning room in 15 minutes.” Adam nodded and left me.

We were alone tonight. Everyone who had come to train with me today had left more than an hour ago. I make my living as a professional Mistress who teaches novice Mistresses, trains new slaves, and holds workshops for couples looking to add a little spice to their sex life. There is a network run by a good friend of mine, Master Justin, and he keeps the whole system running for Masters and Mistresses nationwide. So I get to just sit back and wait for the requests to roll in.

Since I haven’t been keeping a slave of my own, my needs have been adequately taken care of by the professional slaves that have rented themselves out to the novice Mistresses that I train. I have become quite adept at using other people's slaves to satisfy my own desires. Now I have a man who I will be teaching to perform his duties according to my personal preferences. I haven’t had to refine a slave so specifically in every facet of his role in a long time. My skill will be just as important as his obedience.

As I walked into the dinning room, I grabbed my plate from the table setting that one of the slaves had done for me before he had left. In the kitchen, there was a dish of lasagna waiting to be dug into but first I selected a bottle of wine and opened it to let it breathe. That done, I located a spatula and cut a piece of lasagna for myself. Adam came in as I was bringing my plate back to the table, naked except for his leather cuffs, and looked at me questioningly.

“Kneel over there,” I told him, pointing to the bar that separated the kitchen from the dinning room.

He went, as I had told him, and knelt facing the bar. Going back into the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of wine and brought it to the table, placing it next to my plate. I paused for a moment, dismayed that he had made punishment necessary, and then I padded over to him.

“Turn around.” Adam hesitated and then turned awkwardly on his knees to face the table. “Arms up, wrists together,” I order and he complied. I reached for the restraints that I had on the countertop, securing his wrists together and then stretching his arms up to attach them to the hook on the edge of the bar. Next, I reached under my negligee and retrieved two nipple clamps that I had stowed on the band of my underwear. Kneeling in from of him, I rubbed his right nipple with my thumb before giving it a lick with my tongue to ensure that it was sufficiently hard and ready. Using my thumb and forefinger, I opened one of the clamps and fitted it over his nipple. Adam sucked in breath sharply when I released the clamp to pinch his right nipple. I followed the same ritual on his left nipple, this time Adam whimpered softly, pressing forward towards me, almost knocking me over. I had used my gentlest clamps but he wasn’t turned on enough for pain to be confused with pleasure yet. I kissed him on the forehead and then left him there so that I could have my dinner.

I ate, pretending to watch to the news on the small TV I kept on a side table and to ignore Adam. As I played this game, eating leisurely and sipping at my wine, I was considering what particular desires Adam might want me to fulfill. Being punished constantly for little offenses might just be one of them. I reminded myself that despite the fact that a slave may come to love their tormentor in moments of extreme submission, it is not me that they feel affection for. Some slaves love the fight the most, the battle of wills and ultimately paying the consequences for losing. For others it is the pain and the interplay of sensations that a good Mistress can give them that is the biggest turn on. And for still others it is the humiliation that they love more than the fight and the pain, the abasement which leads to a beautiful selflessness, a place beyond all shame. It is my job to figure out the magical combination for Adam so that I can take him back to the state of mind he had been in when he had chosen to stay with me. That is what he is paying for now.

My plate empty, I rose and looked at Adam kneeling where I had left him. He looked at me now with a hint of that look heart-stopping look that had been in his eyes last night when I had let him stretch out next to me in bed and snuggle close. As I approached him, I saw that a few tears were making their way slowly down his cheeks. Kneeling in front of him again, I removed both clamps before kissing away his tears.

“What pretty tears,” I cooed to him and continued to kiss his face, “I know you are sorry for being late, my pet.”

When my mouth reached his, Adam kissed me hard and the tip of his now firm cock rested against my leg. He struggled in his bonds to press closer to me, to show me that he was my slave again. I let him make his apology and then I stood to undo his wrists.

“Now, make yourself a plate in the kitchen. After you’ve eaten, clean up, and join me in the parlor.”

I turned and left before Adam had gotten up off of his knees.

I retired to my sitting room and stretched out on my chaise lounge. After a moments reflection on the point of no return that Adam and I were about to cross, I let out a heavy sigh and picked up my well worn copy of Pride and Prejudice.

About 45 minutes later, Adam opened the door to my sanctuary, padded across the hardwood floor and knelt next to my seat. I kept him waiting for another 10 minutes before I reached for my bookmark and set the book down. Running a hand through his hair and along the side of his face I told him, “Now, we will begin your re-training, Adam. I will perfect you for my service. Your life will be pleasing me.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he responded, leaning his head towards my hand. I smiled warmly at this little gesture though his head was bowed and he didn’t see it.

“Tell me, Adam, can you cook?”

He tensed and said, “Not well.”

I chucked. “Do you know how to serve at table?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Then what did she do with you?”

“She had me fetch, Mistress,” he replied bitterly.

“Yes, well, Christine was always overly fond of playing fetch,” I sighed.

Adam remained wisely silent.

”You know how to take care of a woman, I hope.”

"Yes, Mistress," he responded, a smile in his tone, "I know how to please a woman.” Adam raised his head and looked up at me with a lustful grin. “I have satisfied you more than . . . “

I cuffed him and he winced, bowing his head again.

“I see that you have been taught nothing,” I snapped. “Taking care of your Mistress involves far more than being talented with your tongue, Adam. Or with your cock. You will learn to serve me as I deserve, not just in the bedroom, but in all of the ways a woman should be served.”

Then I put a finger under his chin and lifted his eyes to mine, “Do you remember your schooling in my bedroom, Adam?”

He swallowed hard and nodded as best he could.

“There is no easy set of rules for you to follow, is there?”

Adam shook his head, no doubt remembering the lick of my dressage whip across the backs of his thighs each time he had displeased me. He was an expert in the lingual arts now, but only because I had carefully instructed him.

“Every error you commit will be corrected immediately until you have refined yourself into my perfect servant and my beloved pet. Each task you perform must be completed with a certain consideration and delicacy so that your submission to me is on display at all times.”

“And my love,” Adam interjected with unexpected sincerity.

“Yes, and your love for me as well.” I smiled indulgently at him. “We will start with a few simple tasks so that I can see what I have to work with. Go draw my bath, Adam.”

Adam hesitated and then sprang up from his kneeling position, leaving me to do as I had bid. Tonight, I will find out what kind of slave Adam wants to be. When it comes to the everyday tedium of being a servant most will quickly bristle at the lack of attention and bring punishment upon themselves, but some will try to please as long as their patience holds. For Adam the illusion of love excites him, the indignity of adoring the woman who makes him suffer, so I will let him believe that he loves me if that is what he needs.

Lying back against the couch, I picked up my book again and started reading.

When I had given him adequate time to fulfill my command, I put my book aside again and joined Adam in the master bathroom. As I walked in the door, Adam had just shut off the faucet. He turned to face me and then glanced at the whip I held in my right hand. I planned on using it sparingly this evening however that all depended on him.

“Come undress me,” I prompted him.

As Adam stepped forward, I surveyed the room and took note that he had found and lit a few candles for me. Inhaling, I also noted that he had chosen lavender bath oil, a good choice. Then I was distracted by his large, warm hands softly brushing the straps of my negligee off of my shoulders before it slid down my body to the floor. Fluidly dropping to his knees, he reached gentle fingers under the band of my underwear and pulled them down to my feet. I shivered as Adam looked up at me for approval and almost reached down to bring him up for a kiss, but his eyes had gravitated hungrily to my breasts. With a snap of the wrist, my whip cracked against his skin.

“There is a difference between viewing my body with the reverent desire that it deserves and ogling me, Adam. You will learn it.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I stepped around him and eased myself into the deliciously hot water of my bath. When Adam turned around on his knees, I handed him the wash cloth. Starting at my feet, he took his time and bathed every inch of me, while I simply closed my eyes and enjoyed his heavenly attentions. Adam clearly meant to perform his duties willingly and there are not many things that are better than strong hands performing such delicate work on one’s body.

As Adam moved up my body, he lavished special attention on my breasts, massaging them with gentle fingers, but moved on before he earned the attention of my whip. Next, he positioned himself behind me, at the end of my clawfoot tub, in order to wash my back. He began by kneading my shoulders and then started to work his way lower. I purred and shifted, reaching for his right hand. Then pulling his arm down between my breast and placing his hand between my legs, I threw my head back and kissed him. Shamelessly, I rubbed my swollen clit against his wet fingers and fed at his shocked lips. I reached my climax in a shuddering rush and splashing water on the tile floor. When I released him, Adam continued to stare at me open-mouthed.

“My towel, Adam” I murmured to him and after a slight shiver, he rose to obey.

I stepped out of the bath and Adam wrapped the large cotton towel around me, tucking the end neatly at the top. Moving out of the room to my dressing table, I sat, leaving Adam to trail after me.

“Take the brush from my dressing table. Then unpin my hair and brush it.”

Adam stood next to me for a moment, his body’s arousal evident, as he opened the top left drawer to retrieve my hair brush. Then moving behind me, he undid my hair and began to run the brush carefully through my hair, making sure not to catch on any knots. I let him continue for several pleasant minutes before I reached my hand over my shoulder for the brush. It only took him a few seconds to realize what I meant by the gesture and once he placed the brush in my hand I said, “Place yourself across my lap, Adam.”

I felt Adam tense behind me, something in the air giving away his reaction, but he came to my side and leaned over my lap. I caressed his quivering buttocks with my free hand and then placed the cool back of the broad wooden brush against his bottom, causing him to tighten his muscles in anticipation. Adam had done a commendable job for his first time truly serving a woman but his body was mine to discipline as I saw fit.

Adam groaned at the first swat, his hips grinding against me, pressing his hard cock against my leg. I paddled him mercilessly with quick stinging blows that his arousal converted into a kind of agonizing ecstasy. I used the brush just hard enough to sting and no more, so that I could prolong his torment. He would have to control himself for me, staying in place and accepting what I wanted him to feel. And as I continued, I saw a deeper submission come over him. His body was no longer fighting the pain but welcoming it the same way one's body wildly greets the rush of climax. Satisfied, I stopped abruptly and set my brush casually on the dressing table as Adam fought to catch his breath. But there was to be no rest for him yet.

"Go lay on the bed, Adam." Trembling, Adam lifted himself up from my lap and crawled onto the nearby bed.

"On your back, my pet." Adam rolled on his back and looked to me for my next command. "I want you to pleasure yourself for me," I told him.

Adam opened his legs and his hips drove up and down involuntarily before he slowly brought his hand to his cock. As he stroked his hand and his eyes dropped closed and his back arched, a lovely moan rumbling in his throat. As I watched him, I spared one glance for the leash tied around the leg of my bed frame. Adam had spent most of his nights with me wearing the collar at the other end of that leash and sleeping on a small mattress at the foot of my bed. I knew that I should let him bring himself to orgasm for me and then send him to his place but I wanted to see that look in his eyes again. The look that made me feel that I was the only thing that mattered to him.

So, I crawled onto the bed, tore his hand from his cock and slid it into my mouth. Adam grasped handfuls of the sheets and pushed himself deeper down my throat, crying out roughly. I sucked at him ruthlessly, stroking his full length with my lips, until I felt his balls tighten firmly against his body and then I released him. Adam gasped, gyrating his hips, begging my mouth to return. Instead, I licked the tip of his cock and let slip down my chin and neck, drag between my breasts, and slide along my stomach as I moved by body over his.

"Make love to me, Adam," I whispered to him, not really expecting him to have the control to obey, but he kissed me tenderly, rolling me over and bringing me to a powerful release before his own came thundering out of him.