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Rated: 18+ · Other · Erotica · #1857778
A mistress offers her final lesson to her willing slave
The Mistress picked up the telephone and tapped out his number with her long red fingernails. It rang for a few second before he answered.

"Hello?"

"I will be with you in one hour," she said curtly. "Be ready."

She heard him draw a breath to answer, but she replaced the receiver before he had a chance to reply. She knew he would be pacing now, waiting for his Mistress to arrive. This was to be his final lesson, and she was looking forward to giving it.

Walking over to the drawer, she took out the clothing that she had chosen earlier. Sitting at her dressing table she expertly applied her make-up. Her cropped blond hair was made even more severe with the use of dark liners and a severe hint of shadow to surround her bright blue eyes, and deep, blood red lipstick. A smile curled over her pouting lips.

He had no idea what to expect from her tonight, and there would be one more addition to her under garb that she needed to apply before she was ready to dress for the evening.


She pulled her car onto his driveway and got out carrying a black bag. She knew he'd be waiting nervously for her. He was always nervous in the beginning. But soon she'd teach him the proper ways to behave for her. Rapping on the door she waited. She heard his footsteps coming to the door, and lowered her head. When he opened the door, she raised her head towards the light.

He gasped.

He had definitely not expected this, she thought. There she stood, her curvaceous body clad in a well cut man's suit, long coat, and trilby hat. To finish the illusion, she had painted a thin mustache onto her feminine face with the skilful use of a pencil. She walked past him into the hallway and closed the door. He stood looking at her, not quite knowing what to say.

"Say nothing," she ordered, as though reading his mind. "Just follow me."

She walked up the stairs with him following close behind and turned into the bedroom. Dropping the bag onto the bed, she took off her hat and coat and threw them onto a chair. She could see his excitement poking through the thin material of his robe, but just looked at him in disgust.

He had tried to apply make-up, and looked like some sad parody of a pantomime dame. Slowly, she walked towards him and undid the knot of his belt. She could hear his breathing becoming more rapid. Did he really think she was going to make things that easy for him? He stood naked, his erection proud and manly, but with a look of shame plastered on his face. He knew he wasn't allowed to lose control this easily. It had been one of the first things she had taught him, but the expectation had been too much for him! Taking him by the hand she leads him into the bathroom. She ran a sink full of water, picked up a facecloth and generously soaped it.

"Wash that crap off," she said venomously.

He took the cloth from her hands and began rubbing gently at his face. Grabbing his short dark hair, she pulled his head back.

"If you want to look like a woman, you must let me dress you. Understand?"

He nodded slowly and continued washing. Once he was fresh faced and scrubbed, she leads him back to the bedroom. She pointed to the chair, and he sat down, his hands trying to cover his shrinking penis, but she soon remedied that. Opening the bag she pulled out a black scarf, and forcing his arms behind his back, tied his wrists. He could do nothing, but watch as she walked to his wardrobe and threw the doors open. She knew exactly where he kept all of his special clothes. She pulled out a black, maid's dress.

"Pathetic." She spat the word out distastefully.

Then came his other female clothes, each and every one gaudier and OTT than the last. His frilly panties, pink lace. His short, tight skirts. Long curly wigs. Is this really how he thought women dressed? She shook her head.

"If you think that a woman should look like a slut, I'll show you how to do it properly."

Opening her bag once again, she removed a make up bag. Sitting astride him she began to make him into the woman she wanted. As she applied a cosmetic mask, his masculine features disappeared. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, and once again she felt his manhood growing beneath her.

"You are a girl now," she told him. "You will not be needing that miserable growth between your legs tonight."

Lifting herself from his lap, she went to the bag once again. He could not quite see what she took out, but felt relief as she took the scarf from his wrists. But his relief was to be short lived, as she pulled the scarf around his eyes to blindfold him.

"You will not see yourself now until I have finished transforming you."

He nodded. At her order, he stood, trembling, and still naked. He felt something cold covering his chest and gasped as he felt whatever she had put on him tighten. He felt as though he could barely breathe, but still she pulled tighter. She pushed him down, and he sat, with great difficulty, on the bed. He could sense that she was kneeling in front of him, then felt his legs being pulled through, what he could only guess, were panties, then he felt stocking encasing his legs. Her long nails grazed his thigh and they were fastened and straightened. He felt each foot being lifted in turn, and felt his feet sliding into the shoes she'd chosen for him. Finally, he felt something sliding onto his head and realized that she had also decided on a new wig for him.

"There." she purred "You are complete. Would you like to see?".

"Yes, please," he begged.

"Yes, please, what?"

"Y-yes, please, Mistress."

She stood him up. He teetered slightly on the heels she'd placed on his feet; so she turned him towards the mirror and slowly took off his blindfold. He blinked several times as the light rushed into his eyes, then stared in the mirror. There he stood, pulled tight in a red PVC corset. Panties, black stockings, red stilettos and a black bobbed wig completing the look. He looked more feminine than he could ever have imagined. The corset pulled in his waist, giving him a slight waist and fuller bosom.

"Now that you look like a slut, you will learn to behave like one," his Mistress growled. "Kneel down.".

Standing before him she undid her jacket and slipped it from her shoulders. Loosening her tie she stood and slowly unzipped her trousers. His eyes widened as he saw the thing she had secreted from him all evening. He had to look twice to believe his eyes as he saw the realistic strap-on that was protruding from her fly. He looked up at his Mistress with a pleading look in his eyes.

"Please, Mistress. D-don't!"

"You are my slut now, and I shall do with you what I please," she began. "And you will not answer me back."

Grabbing the back of his head with one hand and holding her own penis in her hand, she pulled him forward and forced him to kneel.

"Suck it," Mistress growled.

He pulled his head away, looking up at her with the same pleading look, but she once again held tightly to his head.

"I told you to suck it, slut!"

Nervously he lowered his head and took the end of the phallus between his ruby red lips. She thrust her hips forward, and he nearly choked but quickly pulled back.

"You learn quickly." His Mistress laughed. "Now do it like you have made so many women do it to you--before you became a girl."

His mouth slid slowly up and down the shaft.

"You can do better than that," she sneered.

Suddenly he took his Mistress's buttocks in both hands and pulled her deep into his mouth. His tongue slid expertly over the strap-on, his hands gliding up and down the shaft.

"That's better," Mistress purred, feeling her growing excitement, and noticing the straining of his own penis against his panties. "Isn't it?"

He moaned an intelligible answer.

She looked into the full length mirror. She enjoyed watching him give her head with such enthusiasm, if not expertise.

With every thrust of his mouth, she could feel the strap-on pressing against her clit, making her wetter and wetter. Her breath became ragged, and noticing this, he began to thrust faster. The Mistress's legs almost gave way as her orgasm enveloped her. She watched her skin flush in the mirror as she came.

He sensed he had done well, and hoped that soon his time would come, but his Mistress had other plans. Regaining her composure she took him under the chin.

"Get onto the bed," She demanded.

He lay on the bed, on his back.

"No, turn over," she instructed.

"But--" He paled, trying to dissuade her from what he knew was about to happen.

But she was not to be swayed. "I said, lay on your front."

He turned over and knelt up. His Mistress knelt behind him and leaned forward.

"Relax," she whispered. "This is not going to hurt."

She put her arm around his thighs and released his erection from his red panties. He gasped. In all their lessons, she had never touched him, and he had dreamed of her hands caressing him. As her hand glided up and down the throbbing shaft, he swayed his hips.

With her free hand she took a small tube of lubricant from the bag, and began applying it to the strap-on which was still wet with his saliva, then she squirted some over his tight, small hole. Slowly she pushed her finger into him. He protested a little, but not loudly--not too much. She could feel him loosening and slowly entered him with the strap-on. He let out a small cry, but pushed his ass back, letting her enter him fully. She put her hand on his small, feminine hips and slowly began to thrust in, and out.

"I knew you wanted it," she told him, as he rocked back and forth onto the hard dick. "I knew you were just a whore at heart."

Her hand continued to slide up and down his cock as she thrust into him, feeling her second orgasm growing. She let out a cry of release, bucking against him, feeling her pussy pulsing as she felt his cum dribbling onto her hand.

"I knew you were my willing little slut." she smiled. "Now that I have done that for you, you must do something for me."

She stood up, removed the trousers, shirt, tie and strap-on, and stood there in all her glory. He was captivated. Even expertly dressed as a woman, he could never look this womanly. Her body was encased in a purple corset, pulled in tight at the waist, like his own. But this only accentuated the curves of her ample thighs and the roundness of her full womanly breasts. Black fishnet stockings covered her legs, and, although he had not noticed before, black boots covered her feet. She reclined on the bed, and opened her legs.

"You have proven you can suck cock, my little whore, but can you eat pussy like a slut, too?"

He lowered his head to her pussy and began to clean the wetness away. Her hips ground against his lipstick covered mouth as his tongue darted over her, circling slowly, then lapping from her ass back up to her throbbing clit. His cock began to grow once again, but he knew that the only pleasure must be for his Mistress.

"Are you getting hard, slut?" she asked.

He looked up at her, his make-up sliding from his face.

She glanced down at him, and with one quick movement threw him down to the bed. Grabbing her scarves from her bag, she tied him down, legs spread, to the bed. When she knew all of his limbs were secured, she knelled over his head. Then she lowered her pussy onto his face, grinding her loins against his eager tongue.

His pushed his tongue deep into her, and she moaned.

She realized that he'd had his pleasure already, but she wanted more of him. Mistress moved down the bed, lowering herself onto his hard cock. His hips thrust up to meet her, each person cried out as an intense pleasure rocked them both. Mistress grabbed her full breasts, and released them from the confines of the corset, lowering them to meet his mouth.

He sucked, rolled his tongue, flicking it across each bud in turn.

Her final cry of release came, as she felt him filling her with his hot fluid. Exhausted, she got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, taking her clothes with her.

He heard her shower, and lay, still tied to the bed, waiting for her return. Her long, luxurious shower seemed to take forever.

Finally she opened the door and walked back into the bedroom. For at least another five minutes Mistress finished dressing and freshened her make-up. Ultimately, she turned back toward him and smiled approvingly.

"Lesson over," Mistress said. Then she turned on her high heels, and left the room.

© Copyright 2012 Libby Kimball (emilyhart at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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