Dark Maggie #01

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A Spa Party; wild (& wildly fictional) tale of life with my Mistress.
7.3k words
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 02/13/2010
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This story copyright ©2010 by kneeler1138. Reposting of this story in any form is strictly prohibited by the author without his permission.

While I'd love this story to be true, it is just a story - Mistress Maggie is the compendium of several women in my life, past and present.

Feedback is good. If you love the story a lot, and would like to fulfill your own Maggie fantasy, please don't hesitate to say hey. :-)

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SPA PARTY WITH MISTRESS MAGGIE

Mistress has asked me to write about our first 'party.' Not the classic type, you understand, this was more like a somewhat twisted dinner party. Actually, Mistress refers to it as the 'spa' party. I guess it depends on your point of view.

Some explanation is in order, first. Mistress and I have known each other for a goodly long time now. I first met her on a chat site some years ago. She chatted me up, as it were. She wasn't a Mistress, she was a 20 something black lady who was just looking around. I was a 30 something guy who wanted a Mistress, but didn't know how to find one. And I didn't think I would find one on that particular online site. At first we just chatted, then we got a little more, well, you get it. The online relationship went on from there, email and IM, and has never really stopped since. Through her, I discovered just what kind of a Mistress I wanted - it was easy, it was her. I have looked in those qualities in other women, even in other Dommes, but never found them.

Through me, she discovered that she was interested in being a Domme; then, that she wanted to be a Domme; and finally, that she needed to *be* Dom. Along the way, so she's told me, there were others that she has played at Domming, but she always came back to me. That had always been enough, since we always seemed to be with other people at the same time, so our relationship at those times was based on the time we could share with each other. Mostly on the phone, but not always; I got to be a pretty good typist chatting with Mistress.

Long intro, sorry...the point of all this is that she and I were the best of friends, knew each other's shit; and knew most of the deeper darker secrets of each other. When we finally managed to both be actually free of other relationships, we were together. And it was amazing.

And it didn't last; fate pulled us apart. That's a whole other story or three.

But eventually, ultimately, and even inevitably, we were together again. And that too is another few stories in the telling. And it was again amazing, had been for, well, let's just say a while now.

She loved pushing the envelope on my comfort level, knowing that, down deep, I craved her humiliations and disciplines a lot more profoundly than Romeo ever felt about Juliet. She had started by pushing me physically; and she got me a lot healthier than I had been. Just a lot better shape. She had done it like a commanding lover, seducing me into it - but that was always her specialty. Being in better shape meant that it was easier to keep up with her, not to mention lasting longer when she had a mind to do something nasty to me. I liked that part a lot.

Once she had hardened me up some, she started on the stuff that really made her hot. I'll tell you right now, I love seeing my blood on her lips. And she loves kissing me that way, too.

So now that you know who Mistress and I are, the rest of this may make a bit more sense. She wanted to push more envelopes, so to speak. We'd gone out to a few 'bdsm' events since we'd gotten back together, but we were always both a little nervous. Although, as we would tell each other, if you see somebody you know at an event, that just means that both of you have something to hide. Still, shy or not, I know she liked showing off her power over me.

But the drawback to that sort of public play was that nobody there knew us outside of the event. Of course, that was the advantage, too - but Mistress really wanted to share her 'real life' as she called it, with those she cared for. She was tired of being 'in the closet' to everybody. I understood. So, we'd talked about it, fantasized about it, and came up with a scenario that Mistress liked - she would invite a few very very carefully chosen friends to a small 'spa party.' I would serve them, first as just the hubby helping out, but if she felt them out and thought she could tell them, I would continue serving them as her slave doing their bidding.

Who was on the list? Well, Beverly, the Sorority sister, and Michelle, her longtime friend were the ones she was sure of, but she wouldn't tell me exactly how many folks were coming. "Less than seven for dinner," was all she would say on the subject. Well, there was one more thing: "Dinner should be amazing, but don't tire yourself out cooking it, I'll need you all evening."

When the evening arrived, there were indeed less than seven. There were four, including me, at the party. (Mistress told me later that she'd thought about having more, but couldn't come up with anybody she trusted.)

The two ladies arrived within five minutes of each other. They were both charming. Neither of them had been to the house before. I'd met them at a social occasion or two with Mistress, who was by my side when I opened the door, and she showed them upstairs to change. The party was just beginning.

There was wine, of course, several sorts, as well as nibble snacks of cheese, crackers and some fruit. The hot tub in the yard was bubbling softly, tiki torches lit, and dinner was ready to go whenever they were, plus about an hour. They came back downstairs, having changed into bathing suits, and I handed out their drink orders as they passed on the way to the tub. Mistress graciously took a glass of quite delightful Shiraz, Beverly asked for - and received - a glass of Chardonnay, and Michelle asked for the same as a spritzer with lime. Oops . . . I didn't have any limes, nor lime juice.

Well, normally when I'm caught without an ingredient, I'm in trouble, as the pantry is my responsibility to stock. But fortunately, when Mistress and I went shopping for this evening, she had actually given the thumbs down on my suggestion that we buy some lemons and limes. I knew she'd remember that, which was confirmed when she glanced over at me with a little irritation. Then she smiled, and shook her head, saying, "Well, sweetie, I knew I should have trusted you on the pantry. Get your ass out of here and grab some, along with whatever else you think we need. Don't take long, we'll be soaking in the tub when you get back."

I followed them outside with the bottles of wine and fizzy stuff, and the snacks, which were on a silly little floating tray for the tub. Then, when Mistress caught my eye and nodded, I was off for the store. I grabbed limes and lemons, juices of both, and a few other things that caught my eye. I blazed back, wedged up some lemons and limes, and headed out to the spa, where I could hear talking and laughing. They sounded like they'd gotten pretty comfy and warm in the last half hour or so I'd been gone.

Beverly was talking when I arrived, I didn't catch about what, and Mistress said, "Hey, hold up a minute, Bev - you remember I told you this was ladies day - and you need to know that the man coming up with the limes is gonna take care of us however we want - that's his job tonight."

She paused, then said, "And he knows that he'll be punished if he screws up, don't you, baby?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The ladies looked a little uncomfortable, I took my leave the second I could.

I couldn't hear anything from the kitchen, but I kept my ears perked anyway. I saw Mistress stand up in the tub, and step up onto the patio for a moment. She went over to the wall, switched on the outside light, and suddenly, there was a click over our intercom speaker in the kitchen. Mistress' voice, very soft: "Listen close, babe." I saw her move away, back to the tub, I couldn't quite understand them all of the time, but Mistress, at least, was speaking a little loud to keep me listening; she wanted me to hear what was said.

A lot of general laughter, and overlapping voices, then that slow tapering off that group laughs do, then I think it was Beverly, said: "Maggie," (That's Mistress) "Just what did you have to promise Charles," (That's me) "to get him to be the butler? I hope you didn't have to go too far, girl!" Mistress' deep laugh was distinctive, if a little slurred; they were on 3rds and 4ths already, and she waited for the two to die down a bit, then, "I didn't have to anything, I just told him to, and he always does as I tell him."

Michelle jumped on that one. "Maggie, don't be telling us bullshit like that, ain't no man just does as he's told, and you know it. You gotta do something for him if he's gonna do shit like that for you."

I wished I could see her face as Mistress replied with a little laugh, "Shell, all he asks in return for his complete obedience to me is that I keep him in line, and punish him when he needs it, or when I want to lay into him. If he's really good I reward him, but mostly, he serves my needs."

There was total silence, and then Mistress continued, "I wanted you to come over today to meet Charles up close, because he's here to stay, and you guys are my best friends and," she was talking faster, I could tell she was nervous, "and, well, and you should know that, well, Charles isn't really my husband - he's really kinda my wife."

Well, there wasn't any silence after that; all I could make out was noise, they were all talking. Then Mistress cut through it, "No, Bev, he isn't a woman, and you've seen my ass naked enough times to know I'm no man, but Charles is most definitely my wife, and, well, even my slave."

More noise, I couldn't make out who was talking, then Mistress said, "What do I do for him? I torture him, tease him, torment him, and control him anyway I want to. And he smiles at me and begs for more. And before you ask - I love it as much as he does."

Michelle jumped in again, she always went for the throat - "Yeah, right, 'Madam Maggie the whip girl!' Get his ass out here! You are so full of shit, girl!"

Beverly said, "How many glasses of wine did you drink before we came, Mags? You must be pretty fucked up to come up with some shit like this!"

"I'm a little buzzed, but I started drinking when you guys did! Let's call him out here, you ask him as many questions as you like!" Mistress picked up the bell at the edge of the tub and tinkled it; that was my signal.

I walked out to the tub, and before I could even get to the edge, Michelle was on it: "OK, Charles, this crazy girl here says you're her slave, and she can do anything she wants to you, and you beg for more - what do you think about that?"

Before I could even start to answer, Beverly grabbed Michelle by the shoulder, and said, "And don't forget the other part, where he'll do whatever she says!" They both looked at me. "Well?" That was Michelle, she was staring at me harder than I thought possible.

"I am Maggie's slave, slut, wife, and servant. I generally refer to her as Mistress, or Mistress Maggie." I twitched a little. I didn't know what else to say. Mistress had told me some of what she had planned, and this was part of it. That didn't mean I knew what to do about it. Or how to explain Mistress and her lovely, inescapable hold on me. Is 'hold' the right word, when you want it? Even crave it?

MIchelle turned to Mistress; "Are you mistreating this boy, Maggie?" She turned suddenly back around to face me, "Is she mistreating you? Don't be afraid - Maggie's my friend, but I won't stand by and let her hurt somebody."

"Madam Michelle, I can assure you that she does in fact, mistreat me wonderfully, and I'm sure that what you mean is, you won't stand by and let Maggie hurt somebody who doesn't want to be hurt," was my response. My face was burning.

"You like her hurting you?" That was Beverly. She didn't sound nearly as outraged as Michelle wanted to be.

"Madam Beverly," I started slowly..."It's difficult to fully explain. Mistress Maggie doesn't hurt me so much as stimulate me heavily, sometimes in ways that might be considered painful, but in the moment, they are not. May I ask, have you heard of endorphins?"

Mistress said quickly, "Charles, don't even get started on some science shit, I think we need some more snacks, and I want to stretch out on a chair and catch some of that sun before it goes away. Help me out."

I grabbed the big towel off the kneewall, and as she stood up, I wrapped it around her. She stepped away from the pool, quickly dried her hair a bit, handed me the towel, and undid the top of her suit, which fell away from her beautiful breasts. "Dry me, babe," she said to me, over her shoulder. As I did, slow strokes of the thirsty towel, not missing an inch, not sexual, but very sensual, she continued, "I hope you two don't mind, the whole point of this little party is to enjoy having a lovely little spa day - some hot tub, some sun, some oil, some really tasty food, and drinks under the stars. Sound good?" She looked at them, a little anxiously.

They both nodded. "Besides, how often do you get a slave to wait on you hand and foot? Enjoy!"

I had dried most of her upper half, and was going for her legs, when Mistress untied the bottoms as well. "Keep drying, slaveboy," she said, matter of factly. She looked over at the two still in tub, said, "I'm gonna layout for a bit in the sun, he's gonna put oil on me - and then I offer him to you to do the same." The two looked a little weird, glanced at each other, then back at Mistress, who hastily added - "Don't forget, he is a slave. He takes no liberties, he is just a servant who knows his place, don't you, Charles?"

I nodded, on my knees, finishing up Mistress' legs, and said, "Yes, Maam."

Beverly looked at Michelle, Michelle looked back, a beat, then she said "Well, damn, I ain't gonna miss this!" She stood up, and walked over to the edge, and said to me, "When you are finished with her, dry me next."

Mistress stepped away from me, and stretched out on one of the chaises near the tub. "Do as you're told," she said quietly.

I walked over to Michelle, and wrapped the hastily grabbed fresh towel over her shoulders. "No, Charles," she said, shrugging out of the towel, more hasty grabbing to keep it off the ground - "If you're gonna oil us up, I might as well be naked, too." I waited, towel in hand, while she peeled off her suit as well. She was fairly attractive. Not my goddess, but not bad. "Get drying," she said simply. I gave her the identical treatment I had given Mistress, and you better believe I took no liberties; but as I was working my way down her legs, I noticed a hint of special moisture appearing on her nether lips. She was liking this, perhaps.

As I carefully dried Michelle, Beverly stepped up out of the pool, and grabbed a towel. Mistress looked over, said, "You don't have to do that, honey, Charles will take care of you, too."

Beverly looked over at Michelle, with me kneeling and drying her off, and said with a smile, "I'm good. But he can definitely put some oil on so my ass doesn't burn."

Her suit joined the others, and she quickly toweled off, so that both she and Michelle were stretching out in the chaises at the same time. Mistress looked over at me, said, "Charles, go get fresh drinks, something with a straw so I don't have to sit up all the damn time to get a sip." She looked over at the others. "Something fruity with some rum?"

I knew there was a reason I'd grabbed the oranges with the other fruits back at the store. They both laughed, Beverly said, "Not too much rum, just a splash for me, with some coke, and do you have some more snacks, maybe?"

Mistress laughed. "Don't ask him, Bev, tell him what you want - he's the slave!"

Beverly suddenly smiled, a quiet little secret smile, and spoke slowly. "Bring me some more of that cheese and crackers, and don't skimp on the grapes."

A yes Maam was my response with a nod, and a questioning look at Michelle. "Well, I like the rum and coke, but I'd rather have a fruity thing. Is that like a Mai Tai?" she asked, looking back at Mistress.

"Honey if you want a Mai Tai, tell him to bring you one," Mistress said. "He knows what I mean by fruity drink - it's a shot of rum with half pineapple juice, and half fresca with some grapefruit juice and a slice of lemon, which his ass had better have bought at the store," she finished, with a hard glance at me.

"Yes, Mistress Maggie-," I smiled back, nodding.

Michelle thought about it, then nodded.

"I'll be right back, ladies," I said as I moved back to the kitchen.

Mistress called out after me, "Change into something more appropriate, boy."

I knew what that meant, and changed in the kitchen, after all I'd been wearing it under the slacks. Off went the shoes, socks and pants, leaving me in a pair of Mistress' lacy boy-shorts. She prefers me in thongs, but didn't want to go too fast with her friends. But they were obviously her panties, not mine; they were oversized black stretchy lace. Mistress thought they were too transparent, so she had me put on a tiny black thong under that. And her favorite cock ring under that; the one that had 'Property of Maggie' engraved on it. My nipple piercings were joined by a small silver chain; that wouldn't be visible just yet, Mistress hadn't given me that signal. So the shirt came off in favor of another tee shirt, more like a camisole top, also in black. Feminine for sure, but not full on drag, thankfully. I finished it off with Mistress' favorite collar, and put in her favorite earring, the female symbol that connected on a chain to my collar.

It took a lot for me to take those drinks out, I felt ridiculous. I was used to that in front of Mistress, even loving it for her, and proud of it in front of total strangers, but this was new.

I served the drinks, trying not to listen, I was afraid, and fetched the suntan oil. I started to kneel next to Mistress' chaise, but she stopped me. "Do Beverly first, she's so light, she's gonna burn," she said firmly.

I moved over to Beverly's chaise, and commenced to smear the oil over her back, and across her shoulders, over her arms...then jumped over the question of her ass by starting at her feet and working up, trying to catch Mistress' attention for some guidance.

She finally looked over, and I caught her eye, then looked down at Beverly's bare ass cheeks, which were just about the last thing I had to do. Mistress smiled, and nodded.

I finished off Beverly with her ass, which was pretty nice. I made sure every inch was properly oiled, but did not dawdle or attempt to tease or arouse. But I could see the dampness growing between her legs.

Beverly looked over her shoulder at me, and said "Thank you, Charles. Now go do Mags - I mean, your Mistress. You can come back later and do my front," she said with an impish smile. She was getting into this in her quiet way, I could tell.

Mistress was next, she was thankfully familiar territory, which I covered quickly but thoroughly. Then it was Michelle's turn. She had been sounding sorta nervous as she bantered with Mistress while I did Mistress' ass, and got really quiet when Mistress rolled over and I proceeWed to finish off all of her, breasts, pussy . . . Mistress was sopping wet, and I was getting pretty aroused myself, just smelling her. Michelle was watching, I could feel her eyes on us.

As I approached, she glanced up, then quickly shut her eyes again. She shuddered as I proceeded to rub the oil in. Isn't that always the way? Michelle, the brash one, suddenly as shy as you could get, while Beverly, the quiet unassuming one, was already calling Maggie "Mistress."

Her ass was tight and muscular, and she wasn't very relaxed, but I managed. I wasn't sure quite what to do when I had finished her backside and ass, I just knelt there and waited - I didn't know if she was going to roll over or not...

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