Erika's Journal

Ever since Erika took over, she's made me keep a journal of my life under her rule. At times of her choosing, she reads it on the premise that she needs to monitor my attitude, behaviour and my welfare, but at times she's admitted to me, that they're an erotic thriller for her as she reads how she makes me squirm under her authority and how she's reduced me a puppet she can control with the wave of her hand. After reading my journal entry about one Saturday night in a few months ago, she ordered me to clean up the grammar and publish it here on Lit. Hopefully you enjoy it and please feel free to rate it or leave a comment.

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It had been six months since you took over our relationship and the whirlwind of changes hadn't stopped since that day. I was certainly no longer the man I was back then but as you've aptly pointed out, almost daily, I was just barely a man anyway. Whether it was that extra two inches you had on me or the swagger that tells everyone you're in charge, in your presence I was nothing more than a nervous, uncertain puddle. Of course, that's the reason I relinquished my entire inheritance to you, making you a very rich woman and leaving me your penniless dependent. My only access to money now came from a credit card of yours so I could pick up groceries and a joint savings account controlled by you for my weekly allowance. Nevertheless, I lusted for you every day. I love being your slave and I love how you reign over me. There was just one problem. Your boyfriends and one in particular; Devon.

It was a Saturday in late September and I had spent the day cutting grass and closing the pool for winter while you went shopping for a much-needed day of retail therapy after a long week at work. As the President of your own acquisitions company, you put some long hours in and enjoy days like this to relax. By about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, my work was done and I was prepping the dinner your ordered; filet mignon with tarragon mushrooms, Brussel sprouts, with garlic mashed potatoes and a bottle of Chateau Pichon. I spent the morning picking everything up to make sure it was as fresh as possible for you and was sure you'd take one bite and smile. I rushed to the door when your Maserati pulled up to the house and I rushed to greet you on my knees. You threw your hips back and forth with a snap as you walked up to the entrance and I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you were in your brown high heeled riding boots, skinny blue jeans, and a low cut white flouncing off shoulder long sleeve blouse that teased me with your full cleavage. Of course, the whole ensemble was topped off by your leather driving gloves and mirrored sunglasses that made your blonde locks shimmer. You've always drawn eyes when your out in public but today, you looked incredible.

I knelt silently at the door with my head bowed while you pulled your gloves off and scanned the house, "I hope you got everything done little man."

"Yes, Mistress Erika," I whispered, uncertain I had done enough to please you.

"Well we'll see," you laugh, "There's been a change of plans, I'm going out tonight so dinner is cancelled." You then handed me your purse and dropped your gloves on the floor, "Go park the car and bring my shopping bags to my room. You'll have to fend for yourself tonight."

"Of course Ma'am," I replied as you headed for the stairs. I had no idea who you were going out with but in the end, it was none of my business anyway. As much as I love being your slave the one conflict I've had is that I despise your other men and how they enjoy you more than I ever will. In the end, though, I'm not the one in charge, you are and I am in no position to tell you what you can or cannot do. So, I kneel quietly and endure their presence whenever one comes for a visit. I know my place in your world and I love worshipping you, but I cannot stand them. On more than a few occasions I've wanted to defy you and say no when you've made me clean their sex out of your slit or lick your nectar off their cocks but ultimately, I know that my feelings or opinions on this matter are inconsequential, so I would focus on the fact that it pleased you and forgot about their cum in my mouth.

It was obviously a successful day of shopping as the trunk was full of dresses, shoes, and hats. I placed them off to one side and knelt silently at your feet in your make up room to start your pedicure with a crimson red polish you picked out while you flipped through a magazine and texted your friends. It was clear you didn't want to talk. I understood though, you're a very busy and important woman and need time to yourself. The last thing you need is me questioning you about decisions I would know nothing about anyway, so I just worked quietly at your feet hoping to make you smile.

Just as I started to paint them, you tapped my head with your rolled up read and smirked, "Just a reminder you little pap smear that if I'm late tonight it'll be your fault and I'll whip your little ass, maybe even make my date add a few for good measure."

"Yes Mistress Erika," my voice quivered from your threat and my hands followed suit as they tended to your toes. You've whipped me plenty of times and you've never been kind in doing so, "I'll try Ma'am."

It was an almost instantaneous reflex by you as I felt your rolled-up magazine belt my head so hard, I fell into the cabinets, "You'll do more than try Graham!"

I jumped back to my knees without the slightest pause and continued to paint your toenails as I apologized for being so foolish as to say anything other than I would obey then thanked you for your guidance and went back to work in silence. I was now shaking so badly, I needed to use both hands to hold the brush steady. I glimpsed up at you and noticed that, just as quickly as you had smacked my head, you went back to reading as if nothing had happened. I wondered what it must feel like to have the power and influence you do. One second you're scolding me and the next you just relax. Meanwhile, I scurry for hours after you've raised your voice. Such is life, however, and I wouldn't trade anything to give it up.

After checking your cell phone, you looked down at me, "While I'm gone, you will change my sheets and dust the house. I'll make it an easy night for you babe and leave it at that. Feel free to play some music or watch a movie if you like but I better not find a spec of dust in the morning. I want you on your knees at the front door when I get home though. Oh and of course you'll stay naked," you laughed as a text bleeped.

"Yes Mistress," I replied looking forward to a night of relaxation, "and thank you for giving me such an easy night."

I then moved to your soft supple hands. I just love them as your nails are so long and elegant, a true symbol of the power you wield. You don't lift a finger in this house unless its your choice and you leave virtually every domestic chore for me. In fact, I don't think you've touched a dirty dish in months.

I love what we have thought and seeing the elegance of your hands reminded me of just how far you'd already taken me. You are my Goddess and I am your slave just as you envisioned, and I had hoped. Still my aching knees reminded me that I live in a persistent state of nervous arousal, terrified of your wrath yet constantly yearning that you'll take my cage off and play with me. Most of the time, you are so sweet and nice with me and I love just being with you but I'm also very aware of the power differential between us and my place beneath you. You are unquestionably strict with me and command complete obedience to your every whim. More than anything, I know how severely I suffer when I fail to please you. Just thinking about it made me bristle as I drew a coat of polish along your slender red daggers at the end of each finger.

As the brush drew polish across the last of your nails, my body tingled with delight when you commented how good job I had just done. I glanced up at your beautiful face as you playfully bit your tongue grinning at me as if I was a helpless prey being effortlessly batted about by your paws.

"Hmmm, I want a massage before my make-up.".

"But won't you be late for your boyfriend Ma'am?" I volunteered while fawning over your hands with my breath to dry your nails.

You laugh out loud, "Pee-on, that's not my problem. Go now."

"Yes Erika," I cowered and shivered while scrambling to get the massage table ready. I could tell you were suddenly in a mood to watch me squirm. Guaranteed you would be late now and that would be no doubt my fault. I knew you were testing me and all I could do was struggle to meet your impossible expectations then cower as you beat me for failing you. Orchestrating situations where I failed was a favourite past time of yours that I'm helpless to prevent and is served as a wonderful tool to demonstrate my position in your life..

A moment later as I spread last of the sheets on the table, you walked in wearing nothing but a pair of 4-inch mules and a pink lace thong while your breasts stood tall in front of my face. A daydream overtook me as my eyes homed in on that signature Cindy Crawford birthmark on your right breast that set off the most perfect, rich bosom I'd ever seen. Between your breasts, your blonde mane that could bounce off your shoulders, your crystal blue eyes, and your full luscious lips, I felt as if I was in the presence of divinity.

"Like what you see perv?" you laughed.

I instantly threw my eyes to the floor as you placed your face in the hollow head rest and told me you wanted a light massage to relax yourself for the night. Tickling your back with a feather touch, your shoulders and back melted beneath my hands. The daily trips to the gym have made you strong and I watched your muscles ripple as I my hands followed the rock-hard contours of your body. It didn't escape me, that the same muscles I was admiring had left me blubbering at your feet, begging for mercy.

You moaned gently when my fingers released the tension of the day one trigger point at a time. I love massaging you. It's such a treat for me as it gives me the privilege to touch your body in ways I'm often not permitted. Just from rubbing your back, my cock fought to squirm out of its cage again.

Silence filled the room for more than 20 minutes before you rose to make me stop. "Ok, my hair, then make-up little pee-on. Take care of the table later, you're pressed for time now," you announced and laughed at my predicament.

"Yes, Mistress Erika," I answered and rushed down the hall to set up when a sudden bolt of pain jetted through my cock. I collapsed instantly in agony onto the hardwood just outside your bedroom and heard the sharp click of your heels as they approached until the heavy weight of your mule dropped on my head, "Did I give you permission to walk ahead of me Graham?" From the corner of my eye I noticed you smiling as you depressed the trigger on the hand held remote to the shock collar you had fastened to my shaft.

Your question sounded distant and unimportant compared to the electricity searing through my cock while your heel dug into my cheek. Still, I knew it was more important to pay attention to you rather than my agony, no matter how hard it might be. "I'm sorry Mistress Erika," I grimaced with my teeth clenched together, "just got excited. Please forgive me."

Instantly, the pain in my cock vanished followed shortly after by the pressure on my head as you stepped over me and laughed, "That's strike two Graham. DON'T get a third. Follow me! Now!"

I scrambled to my feet, following dutifully back to your chair and prepped your beautiful blonde hair with your brush when, to my horror the doorbell chimed, and I froze in fear of how you'd respond.

You shook your head back and forth as you glared at me, "Oh, oh, oh, I told you I wanted to be ready when he arrived." I bowed my head and focussed on my toes. I knew this meant you were planning to crush me tonight and demonstrate just how much power you held over me. "Go! Answer the door pee-on then get back up here," you ordered before picking up your cell phone and tapping the screen with a snap of annoyance and a little curl in your lip that told me you enjoyed watching panic overtake my expression.

My feet barely touched the stairs as I scurried to front foyer wearing nothing but my cage. When I answered the door, I locked eyes with him then quickly glanced away after discovering your date was none other than Devon. He was a towering, bald black mass of rippling muscle who's 10-inch cock gave you the fuck of your life. That first night of ecstasy lead you to decide from that day forward that my wiener was no longer worthy of you.

I hated him. I hated him for being in your house. I hated him for convincing you that I wasn't worthy to have sex with you anymore. But more than anything I hated him because I was genuinely afraid of him. Although you stand tall over me in heels, Devon was easily two heads above me and his hands were so large he could throttle me with ease. What's worse though is that you've decided I shall obey him as I obey you and he gets profound joy out of busting my ass every chance he gets.

"Hello Mr. Washington," I greeted him as he walked by and dropped his blazer into my waiting hands while I locked my eyes to the floor out of an imposed respect I had to honour. You know I dislike him immensely which just adds to your joy since he makes me do the most humiliating tasks I could imagine like stuffing his used sweaty underwear in my mouth. It's the single most humiliating decree you've ever made in my life and the only thing I ever objected to. Of course, the beating I got to for speaking up taught me never to do that again but it didn't change how I felt about him.

"Mistress is almost ready for you Sir. Let me go up and help her finish."

Devon grins, "Then get to it, she was supposed to be ready," he bluntly reminded me as he thumbed through this phone.

I rushed up stairs flashing my naked ass to him as my cage jingled and clanked with each step. As I reached your bedroom, however, Devon called from below, "Oh, hey, pee-on, get me a whiskey first, with ice."

"Yes Sir," I replied then jangled back downstairs poured a glass of Glenlivet and served it to him on a tray and stood quietly waiting to be dismissed.

"Bring me the bottle," he ordered.

I did as I was told, gritting my teeth in the process and put it down firmly beside him, "I hope you're not driving Sir," I challenged him with just an ounce of courage in my voice.

Instantly his massive hand enveloped of my arm and my knees buckled from the pressure of his grip as crushed my bicep with ease. I tried to pull away as I fell towards the floor, but he was just too strong and held me in rigidly in place the same way a little girl might hold her doll. "I'd watch that attitude. You know I'll tell Erika that your hospitality was less than, complementary, and we both know that would make this a very bad day for you. Now get back up to her," he ordered before raking my shin with his dress shoe as he stomped on my foot then shoved me onto my ass across the room as he smiled and turned back to his cell.

My legs trembled as I rushed with my hobbled foot to your prep room to style your hair, petrified he would tell you I had been rude when you came downstairs. Technology exposed me far more quickly than I expected, however, as he had already sent you a text, "My goodness, what's this text from Devon, Graham? That's not the behaviour I expect from you. I'm disappointed little man. We'll will have to deal with you later. That's your strike three." you remark. "I expect total obedience from you and if I don't get it, well it hurts you more than it hurts me," you grinned with a sense of total impunity.

My heart pounded in my chest as you glared at me through your mirror. "Yes Mistress. I'm sorry," as my shaking voice exposed my terror, "I appreciate your guidance Ma'am, I know I made a mistake. I won't do it again. I've learned my lesson already Mistress," I groveled as I styled the natural waves of your blonde locks as you texted back and forth with Devon.

"I'm sorry pee-on, but since when do you decide if you've learned your lesson?" you haughtily asked with a tone of annoyance that told me this was not going to improve for me.

"I don't Mistress Erika. You do. I'm sorry. I spoke too presumptively," and dropped to my knees, "I am very sorry. Please forgive me," I begged knowing I made matters worse.

"Then mind your tongue little man," you cautioned me.

I pressed my hands together as if I praying to you, "Yes Mistress. Thank you, Mistress," then stood up to get back to work

I completed your hair in silence thinking about how helpless I was to stop you from imposing whatever punishment suited you. As much as I enjoyed being your sub, there were times where your wrath was unbearable, and I trembled at your feet, terrified that you would continue correcting me with your whip, paddle, belt or whatever else you took a hold of to beat me. I would beg you to please stop but it never did until you knew I had learned my lesson.

After finishing your hair, I started your make up which was a job I normally enjoyed but was too terror struck to have any fun at all. Still, it's easy to make the perfect features on your face glow. I almost never needed to use concealer and your lashes were so long you has the most beautiful doe eyes I'd ever seen. Eyeshadow was always fun, but I did worry about your eye liner. Applying your mascara could be tricky because I'd always try to put too much on at once but that night I nailed it thank goodness. Rarely if ever did I have to fill your eyebrows and the cream blush went on your skin like silk. Finally, I finished by brushing on a tone of red that matched your nails perfectly. You looked gorgeous, as always, and I wished I could be the guy who took you out for the night. After a few sprigs of Chanel, I leaned back and waited apprehensively for your approving glance. My heart stopped as you studied my work and didn't beat until you nodded. After helping you into your black Versace wrap around dress with diamond necklace, matching earrings and bengals, I dropped to my knees and slipped a pair of black 120mm Louboutin platformed pumps onto your luscious feet then scurried behind you with your purse in hand as you headed downstairs to meet up with your date. I knew my roll. I was to be seen and not heard, so I stood silently in the corner a short distance away

Devon's size dwarfed your elegant figure as you reached one arm up past the iron orb he called a shoulder and craned your neck back to kiss him while your other hand took a hold of the 10-inch reason you enjoyed his company.

You snapped your fingers and smiled as my knees hit the floor, "So the boy was rude?"

I glowered up at you both as you held one another and bantered back and forth about my behaviour. A rush of heat enveloped my face as my fingers twitched continuously against my thighs.

Devon relayed the story as I watched your brow furrow forcing my own eyes to the floor. With a strut in your step you stood over me then ripped my head back by my hair and kissed my lips, "I'll deal with you later," you smiled. It was obvious you enjoyed this. "You can be so naïve and sweet you know that? But in the end, you're not my father, you're my slave. I'm in charge, not you little man. You have no right to tell anyone whether they should drive or not. I own you, not the other way around. You're not my boyfriend's breath machine either. I am." Your light happy smile suddenly disappeared from your beautiful face as my nose sucked in that divine fragrance that's you, "I'm not happy with you Graham, and when I get home, you, won't be happy either." You then shoved my head to look back at the floor, "it won't be pleasant little man. I want all the floors scrubbed clean tonight. There will be no music, no movies, nothing. Just you and your chores as you think about your behaviour tonight."