A Monster... A Mistress

I looked up as the door opened and grinned coolly as I noticed that my visitor was he. His blue eyes gazed at my direction and I could see his soft smile as he walked over to me, hands in his pocket, perfectly casual, himself.

That would not do.

“You know the rules,” I hiss out, still holding that cool grin and gazing at him steadily.

Of course, he knew the rules, and the only time he disobeys would be when he wanted to be punished, wanted to be truly demeaned and humiliated. The smile left his face and he pulled his hands from his pockets, looking down, ashamed, “I’m sorry…”

“To whom are you sorry?” I stood up, arms crossed over my chest, glaring at him know with authority.

“I’m sorry Mama.”

I smirk and uncross my arms, while holding myself with the matriarchal sternness, “That’s better, boy. Now arms up so I can put you in your proper attire” I put extra emphasis on his title, boy, and he cringed, putting his arms up with the right amount of trembling and hesitation. Oh God, he knew exactly the right looks and actions to make me feel so lustful, while so more hungry for his broken pride. Taking a few steps closer to him, I threw took off the leather jacket and gazed at his lithe, lean body, waiting to tease the skin underneath.

With only one glance, I ripped open his white shirt and he gasped. Forcing his arms down, I trapped with the shirt, gripping it tightly around his arms as the sleeves moved off his shoulders. With a growl, I bit down on his chest, and he cried out, in surprise, pain, and pleasure. I knew how much he enjoyed it by the erection that was growing against my legs already. Digging my teeth even deeper into his fragile skin before letting go, I nearly tore his denim jeans as I violently pulled them down his thin, yet cut legs, exposing the lacy, very feminine, black cheeky thong I made him wear. Pulling back from him, I gazed at the bruised, almost broken skin and he shuddered, looking down at me with tearing eyes. Oh, those eyes…the only part of him that made me weak, made me want to hold him, love him, and give in to him than the other way around.

Ironically, those same expressive pools of water were the very thing that made me want to hurt him so much.

Moving away, I sat down on the bed, and spread my legs inviting, “Come here son, and do that thing Mama likes so much. I know I taught you well.”

He could not help it but grin softly, smiling with those same teary eyes, “Yes Mama, anything for you.”

I blushed. I could not help it, but despite how long it has been, I still felt so strange and new. I closed my eyes as he pulled up the tight black skirt I wore and made me chuckle oh so slightly when he exclaimed, “No underwear! You planned this all along, didn’t you Mama?” I gripped his hair tightly and though I was trembling with giggles, I whispered, “Now, now, your mouth has better things to do than talk, boy.”

He nodded, his eyes, smile, and words making him seem like an innocent little boy, while his tongue and his body movements showed what a little whore he truly was. He was VERY good, just knowing where to lick, where to suck. My thighs trapped his head effectively and though he knew me so well, I controlled his movements by using my hands and legs to position his head where I wanted him. Feeling the familiar, but powerful pleasure that would often resonate from his beautiful mouth and tongue, a violent, sadistic part of me took slight control of me as I used my strong thighs to squeeze him until I could hear him muffling and gasping out, “I…can’t…breathe…”

With those unforgettable words, I climaxed, still holding his head tight so he would drink every drop, making sure that none of it would touch the floor (though it’d be nice to see him on his hands and knees and licking my juices from the floor).

Opening my eyes and composing myself, I let go of his head and set him fee to breathe properly. He licked his lips, coated with my taste, and he looked up at me from the floor, sprawled in such a way that made him appear so naïve, yet asking for abuse. Brushing my skirt down and tidying my shirt, I looked down at him, with disgust in my eyes, but a nasty smirk on my lips, “You would make a beautiful little lesbian slut, wouldn’t you? My filthy cunt-loving whore!” Standing up, I became more powerful and more vicious as the game played on, while he became more submissive and weak, slowly cringing away from my venomous glare. Grabbing his hair and tugging on it sharply, I stared deep into his eyes, “What other things should I make you endure for me?”

He looked up at me with those innocent blue eyes and stuttered out seductively, “Anything you wish Mama, you know that your little boy allows you to do anything to his body.” I slowly let go of his hair and he still held my gaze, slowly spreading his arms and jutting his chest out, “I’m yours…do to me what pleases you most…Mama…” I knew that with his eyes and words, he gave himself up to me, trembling slightly. He was afraid, but thrilled, the submission he gave to me must have sent shivers into his very soul.

I know because it was sending shivers into mine.

***

“Mama…if you blind me…how can I see what you’ll do…” my boy whimpered as I buckled the leather blindfold over his…intoxicating eyes. I was too gone to care for his whimpers or whines; my mind was set on the goal. To completely humiliate and dominate my prey.

“Are you there…Mama…?” He bucked his head gently against my breast. At that moment, his wrists behind him, in the restraints connected to the spreader bar over his shoulders. He looked like a medieval captive preparing for another day at the market where he would be whipped and tortured for further degradation.

“Shut up,” I hissed, pushing him on to his back. He still had on the torn white shirt (it help make him look so helpless and worn down), with the thong stuck tightly on his erection.

I stood up and began to pull of my casual shirt and pants to reveal my true self. Underneath that façade of normality was a frightening, hungry beast, dressed in black latex with stilettos to announce her ominous arrival.

Although, I was wearing those same boots the whole time I think the sound of the heels changed. I think he noticed the change was well, because he began to curl up in a corner and I swore I could see a tear run from under that blindfold.

“Oh god…” He muttered, the air changing.

He should have been use to me like this…but a part of him could not accept his surrender to me.

That will change.

“You mean godDESS.”

I must explain that change. I know in the beginning I was…relatively sadistic with biting his skin and teasing him, calling him nasty things. However, I was still…playful in a sense. I know it is not easy to tell, but I was not truly cruel, even when I was becoming more controlling, I was still... ‘myself’.

However…when he spread his arms wide for me, in submission to me…that is when the game begins. My mind loses itself and changes…and I turn into a monster when my day clothes vanish from my body.

I become a savage animal.

And my boy…my poor boy…

He becomes the victim…whether it is by his choice…or not.

***

I pushed him upright against a wall near my drawer (after I forced him away from the corner) and said just one word, “Stay.” Like a dog he obeyed, still shaken by the sudden change but expectant and preparing himself.

Growling loudly enough for him to hear, I walked to the closet and slid open the door, eyeing my toys. He turned his head to try to listen to what I was doing, but he has never seen my collection (I like to keep him surprised). I looked over at the many torture implements and stroked some of my favorite, kissing the tip of a whip or licking a ball gag. My boy shifted in his place, looking around, sometimes calling for me if I stood still for too long, day dreaming about his eyes and lips.

Looking over all my gadgets, I found something that appealed to me. Taking out rather vicious looking alligator clamps attached to a motor. Smirking, I walked back over to him, his head turning at the sound of my footsteps. He called my name out again and this time, I slapped his face hard before kissing him deeply, exploring the familiar territory of his mouth with my tongue. I pulled back before he could properly respond and I felt his hot breath on my lips, panting, and sweat soaking into the blindfold.

Moving two fingers against his lips, I gently pinched both his nipples, getting them hard enough for the clamps. He moaned against my fingers and kissed them softly as I licked his nipples, and when I bit those little buds hard enough, he gasped and whimpered. When I was satisfied with their hardness, I attached the alligator clamps and turn on the motor.

It was hilarious to hear him gasp and to be comforted by the hum of the vibrating clamps. However, he did not appear to enjoy the sensations, his manhood said differently.

His body always says differently than his words.

Smirking I lifted his chin harshly, using one hand to tighten the clamps just to see his reactions, “How does it feel…? Do you like it slut? Do you love to be teased?”

He tried to pull away from my grasp, but I held his chin tightly. “My poor little baby boy!” I shoved his face down on my boots, “Smell that? That’s the smell you’re going to clean off bitch!” I stood up, pushing his head back against the wall. He was shaking and sweating horribly, I could tears being soaked up by the blindfold. However, I could also feel that little slut grinning at me, the incubus that seduced me into beating him.

Turning up the level of the clamps from low to medium, I could feel his body convulse in pain and pleasure as the clamps tightened and vibrated at a greater speed and strength, tugging at his swollen nipples. My hand cupped his hardness and I continued to further tease and dominate him. He shook his left to right, moaning a soft “No…” as my strokes became faster and harder, tugging at his length through the silk panties, squeezing his shaft as it actually throbbed against the fabric. I was testing him, seeing how long he can last without cumming. He needed my permission to cum and I love to torture him with that.

pressing my mouth against his neck, I liked the soft flesh, sucking on it hard as I rubbed harder on his erection, sneaking my hand into the panties to use my thumb to tease the top tip of his manhood. I could feel precome ooze out, despite his will to fight the relentless rubbing of my thumb on the head, and my fingers wrapping around the shaft of his length. Using my free hand, I turned the vibrating clamps up one more notch and he cried out weakly.

“Please…momma…stop-stop doing this…” He was trying so hard not to displease me by releasing himself without my permission. He moaned as I bit down on his neck hard, leaving a deep purple mark. My busy hand slowly went down to massage his balls. He was doing well at resisting my touch that I was about to tell him to cum, about to tell him to let go all over my hand.

However, before I pull my mouth away from his neck to say the word…he came. Just like that, he came. It was...an act of cruel irony. His mouth opened to release a loud scream of defeat as he lost the objective and ejaculated into the panties and on to my hand.

I could feel the thick hot liquid drop on to my hand and soaked up by the think silky fabric. I was stunned. He was so close to getting my permission and yet he was so far gone he let go of himself.

I looked up at him, hurt, disappointment, and anger all shown in my eyes. He knew he was a bad boy, how he moved his head away from me in shame, how he was murmuring, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me” all over and over again.

It made me sick…at that moment; I HATED this feeble excuse for a man. Even though I made him that way.

I moved away from him, making sure not to touch him after I wiped the cum from my hand to his face. He tried to lick it off my hand but I would not let him, I made sure to hold his head back as I wiped it off. Just glaring at him silently, I could tell he was wondering where I was, looking back and forth.

“Momma? ...Momma…please…don ’t-don’t hurt me…”

I slapped him; I slapped him so hard my hand hurt. I was still silent and the only sound in the room was the impact of my hand to his face. After the slap however, I slowly stroked his face, tenderly massaging the bruise that was forming. He began to sob silently and for a moment, I wanted to forgive him, to let him go and stop the session before I go too far.

Yet, that moment left too quickly for me to consider it.

As he turned to kiss the palm of my hand, I pulled it back, causing him to kiss air and to whimper softly. Slowly, I began to pull off his filthy, cum-ridden panties, only ordering him to lift up his legs and ass so I can do so properly. He seemed unsure, confused as to why I did so. I kissed him, using my tongue to open his mouth, and he moaned as he felt the large muscle claim every crevice. I slowly pulled away, his mouth still open.

That is, until I shoved those silky panties into his mouth so he can test his mess and disappointment. Usually it would be my juices that soaked the undergarment, but I would not even give him that privilege of tasting me.

His cry was muffled and he was gagging on the panties and his mess, but I covered his mouth with one hand while searching for a restraint with the other. Finding duct tape in a drawer, I quickly tore some off and placed it over his mouth, trapping the underwear in his mouth and making an effective, distasteful gag. He kept shouting, his rants muffled but annoying now. Grabbing him hard by the hair and slamming his head against the wall one more time, I hissed with toxic in his ear, “You are a little bitch you know that! You cum, your dick, your soul is MINE! You are never, NEVER going to forget the insolence you have shown today you fucking little PIG!” I tore off his blindfold, glaring into his eyes…that were wide with horror.

But I didn’t care. This time I was gone too far over the edge and I knew he could see it, he could see me falling into the abyss of the game.

It was not a game anymore, not at all.

And that fact petrified him.

It was as if someone else took over my body. Not the animal I described before, no something darker, more evil. Like a demon.

I did not know what had gotten over me. I would say that it was his complete act of uncontrolled disobedience…but that would be a lie.

It was as if I was suppose to lose control not matter what, I wanted to hurt him and break so much that I lost utter control in my obsession…

And it is killing me.

***

By now, I had beaten him badly. His body was bruised and still stung after the rattan cane. This usually would be enough, beating him with every weapon I had at my disposable. A brush, a paddle (woodened, leather, or metal), a crop, a whip, a cane, anything I can get my hands on.

Though…looking at him laying on the ground, sobbing silently into the gag, how vulnerable his body appeared to me. It just was not enough. I needed to completely punish him and make him suffer.

I sat down, breathing hard, trying to think of something more I could do. I realized there was one thing I have not done to him, one thing that was such a stigma to both him and me.

I had never forced myself on him.

Standing up, I walked over to the closet. I could feel his eyes following me as he struggled to support himself on his elbow. I knew he wished to talk to me, to beg to stop hurting him, but he was gagged. Any sound he made was worthless. Taking the harness, I paused, looking at it. I knew if I do this, it might destroy him. He was truly a weak man inside, with so little order in his life that meeting me, someone who could control him, had changed his universe for the better. He trusted me. If I ruined that trust…I could lose whatever made him keep fighting in life.

However, that dark side of me took over my thought process. Walking over to the mirror, I unzipped the latex outside I wore under my casual clothes, peeling the skintight material off my body. I knew he was watching him, because I saw him through the mirror. I do not think he noticed the harness however. Wearing the harness, I was happy to know it fit, but I needed one last touch that would shake my boy done to the very depths of his mind. Still looking at my reflection, and snap my fingers for his attention, “Get me that box on the bottom of the closet…NOW!”

His eyes widened and he immediately did as he was told, frightened of the consequences. It was quite a challenge since he was still bound, yet he managed to use his hands to pull the box out and to use his head against it to push it to my side. Seeing the task done, he crawled back to the other side of the room. I did not even say thank you or acknowledged him. That had hurt him and I could see the suffering in his eyes.

Opening the box, I pulled out the black, hard, latex cock that was mixed with all my other pleasure devices. I eyed it for a moment, admiring its beauty, and as I attached the cock to the harness, I was shocked to full the urge of power that came with it. It was my cock, MY cock. It became a part of me the second I attached it. Getting wet by just the control I felt from the strap-on, I looked at my boy’s face in the mirror.

He was stunned, and he was not happy.

I smirked, malice lacing my lips as I glared at him. Turning around, I used my juices to lubricate the thick phallus protruding from me. I walked up to him, and he could see how much the power I held over him was affecting me from the juices that drip down my thigh. He shook his head, saying a muffled “no” as every time I stepped closer to him. He tried to back away from me, but I caught him by the hair and pushed his face down to the ground, “Be silent bitch!”

I spanked his ass a few times before it was tender and red. He whimpered and shook his head, knowing what was to come, knowing what I was about to do to him. I could feel his fear. Kneeling down by his ear, and bit the top of it and he murmured a stifled gasp, “Baby…can’t you see how much this is turning me on already…don’t you want to please momma after what you did, after you came without my permission…don’t you want to be forgiven at last…?”

He choked back sob. He was trembling so much. I stroked his hair and gently massaged his back, “You want it this way…to finally be sissified and taken…you want me to do this to you. Don’t you want to give yourself up to me…completely?”

This was killing him. I knew he was so scared, so shaken up already. I kissed his cheek and he looked at him, looked into my eyes.

He nodded. He nodded with tears pouring down his face.

He accepted his fate.

I smiled, but it did not comfort him. I lifted his ass into the air and he began to shake his head. I used my juices and saliva to lubricate the his virgin entrance, and he began to struggled. I positioned myself behind him and I could hear him begin to release choked back and muffled protests. I entered him, slowly but surely, and I could hear him scream.

“Oh god…” I moaned out. My cock was pushing back against me as I pushed into him. A new feeling of sadism and dominance washed over me. His trembling, his shaking, his crying, all of it was pleasuring me in a way that was beyond physical. It was mentally and emotional euphoria that invaded every part of me.

Already, I was thrusting faster into him, wanting more and more of the feeling that kept crashing into me. He gripped the carpet of the floor, almost tearing it off and I could see the puddle of tears and saliva forming under him. I did not care how long he cried, how loud he was or I was. One hand was at his hips, forcing his body to move with mine and another hand was massaging the source of my physical pleasure, my thumb rubbing against my clit as I went faster and faster into him.