The Mistress

This piece of fiction is an extract from a work that I wrote from an original idea by a good friend that we then developed in collaboration. It is an interesting if specialist genre that was fascinating to work on and I thank Keith for allowing me to do it.

Justin’s work that day was very long and increasingly boring and he feigned some fictitious illness to get out of the building. At home he hadn’t even taken his coat off before he had pressed the power button on the laptop and set his portal of pleasure into action. He found himself tapping the table top impatient for the windows to open. Looking up the correct bookmark he took a deep breath, not really knowing what he was going to be presented with this time but a glimmer of nervous hope drove him on.

Fortunately he recognised the layout of the chat site and this vague familiarity allowed him to settle back into his seat. There were still the same rows of indifferent previews although there were no anonymous ones this time, but he was drawn to one of the clearer images. He still couldn’t tell who the person was, but the crystal encrusted red and gild mask glinted in the lights caught his eye and for no other reason, he clicked on it.

The window zoomed up and he could see the figure very clearly now; there was a small HD symbol in the corner of the box which accounted for the detail of the mask being rather captivating. There was also a smaller representation of what he could immediately recognise as the top of his head and the painting on the wall behind him. He adjusted the lid of the computer where the camera was and his tiny face centred on the picture, he didn’t like the look of it but there he was; he brushed his hand through his hair in a vain attempt at something but quickly focused on the job in hand at a voice launched out of the speakers.

“Stop that, you’re not allowed to play with yourself, not in my sight you disgusting maggot.”

Once again Justin was at a loss for what to do.

“Sit up you measly worm, you will pay attention to me. Now, look at me, let me see what creature has dared to enter the presence of the Mistress Dominus this time.”

Justin did sit up and shuffled as if he knew what was expected of him but was really still at a complete loss.

“Hello, I…”

He didn’t know what to say and had wished that he had thought about it first but it seemed that it didn’t matter.

“Who said you could speak, worm! No one, so shut up until I say you can address me.”

There seemed no answer to given even if he was allowed to give it, so Justin decided that he needed to play along with this little game if he was ever going to find out more.

“What have you come to bother me with today boy? What is it you think you can do for me? Make me happy? It doesn’t look as if you could do very much in that capacity.”

The mask leaned forward to peer out of the screen and Justin automatically leant back away from it.

“Don’t you move away from me, I want a good look at you, what an ugly little thing you are,” Justin swung forward at the implied instruction, “yes I thought so, another sad little man who thinks that they can satisfy me, feed my every desire. Slave? You wouldn’t last a minute under my boot!”

“But Mistress,” Justin shocked himself that he seemed to have fallen into the role play, “I can do whatever you want me to do.”

“Oh you do, do you? You can shut up to begin with, you don’t speak, you’re annoying me now so,” she thought for just a second or two, “lick my face!”

Justin was frozen in his seat, his face was only inches from the screen which cracked subtly with static, he could see out of the corner of his eye the small inset of himself that was now just eyebrows and distorted forehead.

“Lick it you cretin!”

Justin didn’t have to move very far and found himself wiping his outstretched tongue gingerly but obediently up the screen, the tingle of the static added a dimension that he wasn’t expecting and it made him smile, fortunately his mouth had dropped out of the picture.

“Good, you might make a reasonable slave after all, do it again!”

Justin went to carry out the order but the image on the screen had changed. The woman, the Mistress had stood up out of the picture, now Justin was presented with the sight of a stiletto heeled black patent leather boot complete with silver spur buckled round its ankle.

Boots“Lick it, now, lick it slave!”

The voice had changed pitch and volume as she obviously wasn’t facing the microphone any longer but Justin answered her command and licked the boot, or rather the image of the boot and must have inadvertently groaned some sort of contented noise as well as developing a satisfied look on his face.

“Stop, stop it, who said you could enjoy yourself you vile naughty useless amoeba! You stay silent until I tell you, you need to be punished.”

The retort made Justin sit back and he realised that he had closed his eyes and by the look of the screen and his drool that was running down it he had licked the image of the boot.

Then the picture of footwear was gone, in its place just a sumptuous red leather chair. He waited. He could hear movement but there was nothing to see; was this over; should he click the ‘x’ to close the window; he hadn’t been told that he could; perhaps he shouldn’t. In the end he didn’t.

He did jump slightly as a man’s face, more a boy really, crashed into the picture on its side and with an expression that seemed to be pain or at least extreme discomfort. He grimaced once or twice and then settled for a forced grin. Justin could see that he was being held down by a hand, a jewelled hand with long red talons for finger nails; one of these was stroking or rather scratching across the poor boy’s cheek.

“Do you want to see what happens to the disobedient?”

The woman’s voice spoke out of the computer in a knowing and excited way.

“See this?”

The boy’s face was lifted out of the shot and was replaced by a pair of buttocks swathed in tight black leather shorts, Justin could see that he was laid over a matching red leather foot stool. A red talon drew a line down the lower part of his back and then pressed rather harder into the bare skin just above the waistband of the shorts. A cry of muffled of pain started to echo but it stopped before it became anything more.


Justin clamped his open mouth closed but realised that the instruction wasn’t for him.

“Here boy, watch what happens to you when you fail me.”

This time the comment was for Justin, ridiculously, he nodded although he didn’t know if they could see him or not anymore.

Thwack. A riding crop smacked onto the leather clad cheeks of the slave but there was no other sound, Justin was waiting of the cries of pain.

Thwack. Thwack!

Justin had grasped the edge of the table he was sitting at and found himself licking his dry lips.

“You want some of this?”

Justin nodded, fully immersed in the episode.

“You want to feel this on your skin?”

The tip of the crop was being dragged up and down the taught back and between the slim but muscular upper thighs of the boy.

“Yes Mistress, I…”

“I didn’t tell you you could speak!”

The crop came down hard on the leather shorts and this time there was a definite cry of pain from off-screen.

“See what you did to this poor unfortunate creature, you caused him pain, will you do it again? Speak.”

“No Mistress, I didn’t want…”

Thwack. Cry. The boy tried to move away from the abuse. The heel of the boot was applied to him and he stopped squirming.

“Do you want to make him suffer more? You don’t seem to be a very quick learner, I don’t like that in a slave. Speak.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Justin knew that he could only say that one short phrase and no more.

His eyes slipped from watching the tableaux to looking at his crotch which was crowning; the movement must have been noticed by the watching camera.

“I hope you aren’t thinking of pleasuring yourself slave?”

Justin looked up smartly and shook his head vigorously.

“You touch yourself now and this handsome beauty,” the heel pressed in the small of his back once more and he cried out again, ”will be for it and you don’t want that on your puny conscience do you!”PhotoFunia-1427989748

“No Mistress.”

Justin sat upright, arms stretched forward on the table as if to prove that he wasn’t doing anything.

“Say thank you to me.”

“Thank you Mistress.”

“Apologise to this poor unfortunate that you caused to have so much pain.”

“I’m very sorry but thank you for the game, can I..” he stopped as the woman shouted at him.

“Shut up you stupid little man! Who do you think you are, what do you think this is? Game! Does this look like a game!,”

The crop slashed several times at the prostrate body.

“He is nothing but your whipping boy, you owe him nothing, it’s me you obey, he is like you, nothing but a play thing,” her tone softened as if this was what she enjoyed, “you need to learn so you may get to receive more of my attention very soon.”

The window closed abruptly and the screen returned to the collection of other hopefuls. Justin sat as if still under her command but eventually swallowed hard and made rather embarrassed shuffling movements as he didn’t know if he was still being watched or not. That had been a little too real for his liking and what did she mean, ‘very soon’? He reach over and closed the lid on this bizarre and yet stimulating world. He felt the tightness in his trousers but was still seemed rather reluctant to acknowledge it. He hobbled to the bedroom and totally exhausted he fell into a fitful and image ravaged sleep.


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