The Initiation - Part 3

Click here to read the previous parts of the story.

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You step into the impressive heat of the dry cleaner’s and pull the ticket from your pocket. You hand it to the stout Asian woman behind the counter and she glances at the ticket, emits a quiet grunt, and turns.

She pushes a yellow button and the garment conveyor comes to life. You watch as dozens of dresses, shirts, slacks, jackets, and more go by in a blur. The attendant releases the yellow button and the conveyor stops. She plucks a bagged collection of items from the rack, turns, and hands them to you. She nods without saying a word and you take the clothes.

You're a little embarrassed to do so in front of the attendant, but you check to make sure that every item your mistress had you drop off a few days ago is accounted for. After all, you'll be punished if something has been forgotten. You'll be punished even if the dry cleaner has screwed up. That's just how it goes sometimes.

Thankfully, all items are accounted for. You step out into the late afternoon air and nearly crash into a woman holding a Starbucks cup. She shoots you a dirty look and hurriedly moves along, her heels clicking against the concrete. You stare at her legs for a few seconds and think back to this morning when your mistress permitted you to worship her feet and calves while she messaged with her new boyfriend. You'd hoped she would welcome you between her legs to tend to her pussy, but you were not offered that pleasure.

Now you're running errands for her. A goddess like her should not have to stoop so low as to drop off and pick up her dry cleaning, after all. She shouldn't have to do anything she doesn't want to do, in fact, and she has a steady supply of submissive men that are eager to meet her needs because she's an expert at offering the domination that makes those men feel so good.

Condoms are the last item on your list so you step into the CVS and head for the back of the store. It takes a bit of searching, but eventually you find yourself staring at a wide variety of options. Your mistress has requested Trojan Magnums, though. Her boyfriend is blessed with a remarkably thick cock, apparently, and he requires a larger kind of condom to prevent breakage. They've been on four dates but they haven't fucked yet. She's given him a handjob, though, and she's quite convinced she has him desperate for her pussy. The condoms are for the next date, as your mistress is quite keen on having him inside her.

You bring a box of six condoms to the front of the store with the intention of using the self checkout. It's not working, though, so you get in line. The girl running the register isn't especially quick, so you pass the time thinking about last night, when your mistress allowed you to lie on the floor in front of her couch while she watched TV. She happily smothered you with her feet, permitting you to lick and suck on them as she immersed herself in the pleasure of a good show. Though you wanted to masturbate, you were not permitted to touch your cock, of course. On a few occasions your mistress was kind enough to gather your precum with her toe and let you lick it off. That was the only direct sexual stimulation you enjoyed last night, though.

It's your turn to pay, so you set the condoms on the counter. The young woman behind the register has a nose ring and several streaks of purple through her dark hair. She picks up the condoms, scans them, and looks you up and down before smiling.

You take out your credit card and hold the chip against the reader. It takes a few moments before you hear the satisfying beep of your card having been read. A receipt spills out of the machine - an incredibly long receipt, of course - and the girl gathers it, folds it up, and holds it in her hand along with the condoms. You extend your hand to receive your item, but she doesn't hand the condoms to you.

You look up and see her smiling. "What?" you ask.

"These aren't for you, are they?" she asks.

It's a rude question, but it also happens to be right. You consider offering a rude answer, but your mistress has been clear that she expects you to treat all women with respect, even those that are rude to you. She would likely never know that you were unpleasant to the young woman standing across from you, but you'd feel so guilty about your rudeness that you'd confess it.

"No, they're not," you say.

She glances at the people in line behind you and leans in as her lips curl into a smile. "I knew it. Guys with dicks big enough to need these condoms are way more confident than you."

"May I have them?" you ask.

She pulls her hand further away. "Who are you buying these for?"

You take a deep breath. "My mistress."

She leans back and her smile is bigger and brighter. Then, to your surprise, she bites her lower lip in a wondrously flirty manner. "Like, a dominatrix?" she asks.

"Yes. Not in a professional sense, though. I don't pay her, or anything."

She laughs. "But you buy condoms for her." She gestures towards the dry cleaning. "And you pick up her clothes, I assume? And you paid to dry clean them, I assume?"

You nod.

She sets the box of condoms on the counter and slides it towards you. Her hand remains on the box, though, preventing you from walking away with your purchase. A customer behind you grumbles, though you can't discern the details of his complaint.

"One more question," she asks.

"Okay."

"How did you meet this woman?"

"Online. She put up an ad looking for submissives. I answered it. We turned out to be a good match and she welcomed me into her service."

The girl smiles. "Interesting. Do you think she'd be willing to give lessons on how to be a...a mistress, a dominatrix?"

You figured she saw an easy mark and was going to work out some frustration by embarrassing you about the condoms. Instead, the conversation has taken an unexpected turn, so much so that you're dumbfounded for a few seconds.

"Uh, well, maybe," you say. "I don't know, to be honest. I could ask, though."

"I'd appreciate it if you did. Can I give you my number and trust that you'll only use it to contact me about this very particular question?"

"Yes, of course."

You leave with her name - Georgia - her number, and the condoms. You've finished the errands your mistress assigned you, so you head back to her place. She buzzes you into the building and you head for the elevator.

The doors slide open and a familiar face is waiting inside. "Hey there, cuck," he says. It's another of your mistress's bulls. Submissive men that use their cocks to satisfy her. They're a rare breed - a submissive bull, that is - but your mistress is a rare breed, too, and she has very little trouble finding men of all varieties to serve her many desires.

The bull walks out of the elevator, claps you on the shoulder with enough strength to knock you off balance, and walks past you before saying, "Enjoy the taste of my cum, cuck."

He says it like it's an insult, but it's not. You'd be honored to clean the cum of a sexually superior man from your mistress's pussy. She knows it, too. Perhaps if she's satisfied with your completion of her errands you'll be permitted to crawl between her legs and lick up the mess that her bull left inside her.

The door is unlocked when you arrive at her apartment. You open it and step into the spacious living room. You head for the bedroom with the condoms and dry cleaning.

"Welcome back, cuck," she says.

"Thank you for letting me do errands for you, mistress. It's always an honor to serve you."

Your mistress smiles. She's impossibly beautiful and on this occasion she happens to be naked, which makes it all the more pleasurable to gaze upon her.

"You may set the condoms on the nightstand and hang my clothes in the closet," she says.

"Of course."

You set the condoms on the nightstand and hurry towards her walk-in closet. You remove the clothes from the protective plastic bag and hang each piece in its place. It takes some time to get it right, but it's always worth taking extra time to ensure that your service to your mistress is top notch.

You return to the bedroom to find her on her phone. She remains naked, though, with her legs crossed. You selfishly hope that she has crossed them to try and keep her bull's cum inside her so that you may lick it all up.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, mistress?"

A few minutes pass as she interacts with her phone. You stare at the floor. It's not your place to endlessly gaze upon your mistress, after all, and the respectful thing is to direct your gaze downwards until she has use for you.

"Would you like to clean my pussy, cuck?" she asks.

"Yes, mistress. I'd like that very much."

She smiles and caresses her breasts and stomach. She's impossibly beautiful. Your pulse quickens as you watch and you can't manage to pull your eyes away even though staring runs the risk of losing you the opportunity to worship her.

"How long has it been since you had sex, cuck?"

The question catches you off guard and a few seconds of silence follows. "Uh, I don't...I think it was roughly six months before I started serving you, mistress."

"So you haven't had sex in more than a year?"

You nod.

"And when you last fucked someone, was it good?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Was it good for her?"

"I believe so, mistress. She had an orgasm, if I remember. We were dating. The sex hadn't been great at the start, but I got better at satisfying her. She didn't always cum during sex, but she did most of the time and when she didn't I always tended to her clit soon after I'd cum."

Your mistress moans softly. "It sounds like you were a good boyfriend. What happened?"

"She got back together with her ex. They'd been engaged two years before I met her. She called it off. Then they ran into each other at the farmer's market and got to talking. Soon enough she'd broken up with me. They just got married."

"She got a husband and you found yourself a mistress to serve. Are you happy with how things have turned out, cuck?" she asks.

"Yes, mistress. Very much so."

"Because you were always meant to serve. Isn't that right?"

You nod.

"Because service is your calling. Because giving yourself to me so that I may use you to better my life is what you were always meant to do, isn't that right?"

Your loins tingle with desire. Your cock has grown. Though it would have sounded insane to you when you met her six months ago, you now believe that her statement is the absolute truth. You were meant to serve. Your purpose in life is to surrender yourself to a superior goddess like your mistress so that she can use you to improve her life even if it means that you must suffer.

"If I honor you by letting you enter into a deeper level of service, you will likely go many years without having sex," she says. "Or, to be more precise, you will go many years without experience the pleasure of a pussy wrapped around that disappointing cock of yours. You'll take strapons and real cocks in your ass with some frequency, but while you're in my service you will never fuck a woman. Your cock will likely never come near a pussy. You are not worthy of that kind of pleasure. Your pleasure will come entirely from serving your mistress, from doing anything and everything you can to make my life better."

In this moment you feel the pleasure of service. It's entirely different from the pleasure of sex or masturbation. It's deeper. It feels as though it's directly connected to your soul, to the fiber of your being. It's not cheap like a quick fuck or a masturbatory session aided by porn. This is a level of pleasure that goes to the core of you, that nourishes you.

"Service to you is my purpose, mistress, and nothing makes me happier."

She smiles and grasps both of her breasts. Her legs slowly part and you see the sticky wetness of her pussy. "Even when that service is humiliating or painful?"

"Yes, mistress."

"That's good, because there's a great deal more of both in your future, cuck. You've only begun the initiation. There are many more tests for you to pass. Tests that go far beyond sucking cock for me or cleaning my pussy. Tests that go beyond the punishment you suffered for fantasizing about being my boyfriend. You must pass them all before I make you my primary submissive, for I refuse to be served by anyone other than the absolute best."

You want nothing more than to crawl between her legs and devour her pussy. Your loins tingle. Your cock is half hard. You're awash in desire.

"Get naked and get on your back on the floor," she instructs.

You strip and lie on your back on the unforgiving hardwood floor of her bedroom. She picks up her phone.

"Masturbate," she says. "You may stroke slowly, but you may not stop until I give you permission. If you cum, though, I will redden your ass until your cheeks are stained with the salty wetness of your tears."

"Yes, mistress."

You take your cock in your hand and you masturbate.

"Hey, baby," she says.

She's not talking to you. She must have called someone.

"I miss you too. In fact, I miss you so much that I was hoping we could move up our date. I have a...well, I'll be honest, I want you. I keep thinking about how good it felt when your fingers...when they were inside me. I keep thinking about how good you must be with your other...with the rest of your anatomy if you were that good with your fingers."

You can't help but picture her boyfriend fingering her. You picture them kissing. You know that your mistress likes him. This isn't like with her bulls, who are merely sex objects to her. This is a man she's developing real feelings for. She may find that he doesn't fit with the rest of her life - she's been clear that her boyfriend and future husband will have to be comfortable with her stable of submissive men - but for the moment she's quite enamored with him, which probably explains her seeming shyness.

"Yeah? You liked the way I touched you? I can make you feel good in other ways, too. My hand seemed to do a good job..."

She laughs softly.

"Okay, a very good job. You were quite loud, I suppose, and there was so much cum."

You stroke as slowly as you can. The arousal is building and you know that you'll be punished if you cum. She doesn't make threats. Instead, she does exactly as she says she'll do.

Your mistress gets out of the bed and straddles your face. You look up at her and for a few seconds you stroke faster. She's so beautiful and her pussy is so wet and sticky looking that you can't help yourself.

Then she sits on your face. It's not her pussy that she feeds you, though. Instead, it's her asshole. You rim her without being told. You hope it's what she wants and can't say because she's talking to her boyfriend. You make sure to keep quiet, too, as you know she doesn't want him knowing she's sitting on someone else's face.

"I hope it's okay to say that...to say that I want you, baby," she says. "That my pussy is wet for you like it was the other night when you fingered me. Except that...right now my pussy...my pussy is wet for your cock."

She moans and begins to masturbate. You feel your cock surge in your hand. You try not to touch the head as you stroke. You don't want to cum. She leans forward and smacks your balls hard. She saw that you were cheating. She punished you. Thankfully, the aching pain now reverberating through your balls has robbed you of some of your arousal, though.

"No, that was just...well, that was just me giving my ass a little smack," she says before laughing softly. "It's a little embarrassing that you heard that."

You can hear him saying something, though the voice isn't nearly clear enough. You can't help but wonder if your mistress is perhaps making a mistake by gently misleading her boyfriend as she seems to be playing the part of a slightly more innocent woman than she actually is.

"I confess I do like a smack on the ass when I'm turned on," she says. "Especially when it's a strong man like you doing the smacking."

That much is true. She likes when her bulls fuck her doggystyle and spank her. You like watching. You love it, in fact, and consider it a privilege each time she lets you witness her pleasure in that manner.

"Yeah? You'll smack my ass when you fuck me?" she asks.

Perhaps she's not playing the innocent. Perhaps she's being exactly as honest as her boyfriend can handle at the moment, which is to say he might not be ready to be dating a full-fledged goddess of a woman that is as sexually awakened as any you've ever met.

"Will you masturbate with me?" she asks. "Will you masturbate while you think about me riding your cock? I know we haven't fucked yet and maybe this is just too much dirty talk...but I can't resist."

You can him reassuring her. You imagine he's saying it's not too much. You imagine he's thinking that he's the luckiest man in the world to have found a woman interested in dirty talk before he's even had sex with her.

"Imagine me riding you, baby," she says while you tongue her asshole. "Imagine my tight pussy - the one you fingered so expertly - wrapped around your gorgeous cock. Imagine me wearing sexy lingerie. Imagine your hands grasping my tits in that lingerie. Imagine me telling you how good your cock feels in my pussy, how deep you are inside me, how good you're stretching me."

You hear him groan.

"I'm going to make you cum so hard, baby. I'll suck your dick first to show you how good I can make you feel with my mouth, but then I'll get on top and I'll ride you until we've both had an orgasm. Don't worry, though, you'll get to fuck me as many times as you want when we see each other again."

He's getting close to cumming, but so are you. Every time you touch the head of your cock it's pure pleasure. You hope that they cum first, that you can stop masturbating before you lose your load.

"Yeah? You'll fuck me hard from behind?" she asks. "You'll fuck me doggystyle and spank my ass? You'll make me cum on that big dick as I take it like a good girl?"

You bite down on your lip to restrain a groan as you cum. It feels so good. She sits on your face with almost all of her weight. She smothers you with her ass and it becomes hard to breathe as the orgasm rips through you.

She cums soon after. So does he, at least based on the moans.

Your cum pools on your stomach. The load that was in her pussy is now on your chin, neck, and chest. Your mistress stands after hanging up the phone. She steps aside and looks down at you.

"Did you enjoy your orgasm?"

"Yes, mistress. Thank you for letting me masturbate."

"I promise, you won't enjoy the punishment." She smiles and it seems clear that she's going to enjoy punishing you. It seems possible that you were going to cum no matter what, that she set up a test you couldn't pass, that what she wants is to make you suffer.

"I'm sorry I failed you, mistress."

"You're going to fail. It's impossible to be a perfect submissive. That's what the punishments are for. You atone for your failures and we both move on."

There's something so lovely about that. It's so simple. So straightforward. If you fail, you must suffer and then your failure is cleared away.

"First you're going to lick up as much of that cum as you can. Then you're going to get cleaned up so you're not dripping cum all over my bedroom. Then you're going to return to my bedroom, clasp your hands behind your head, and await the pain that I'm going to inflict on you."

You begin collecting the cum with your fingers. "Yes, mistress. Thank you for letting me serve you."

She walks away. You're not sure what your punishment will entail. You're not sure how long it will last. You're not even sure when it will begin. You are certain, though, that your suffering will be significant.

It's your place to suffer when you fail her, though. That's part of your service.

"Mistress," you say.

"Yes?"

"Sorry, but I forgot to tell you. There was a girl at the CVS that wanted lessons in how to dominate men," you say. "She asked me to give you her number in case you were interested in teaching her."

She stops and turns around. "How interesting. You can tell me more after your punishment."

"Thank you, mistress."

You resume eating the cum from your body and try your best not to panic about the level of pain you're about to suffer through. Your mind drifts, though, but dreading a punishment is undoubtedly part of being a submissive, so you embrace the anxiety that comes with waiting and resolve to grit your teeth and survive whatever pain your mistress decides you must suffer.