I needed a domestic sub to come in and tidy my apartment once a week in exchange for being ordered around naked.
One night at a play party I found an older man. He later confirmed he was nervous about attending the party without a Domme, but he was driven by his craving to seek direction from a dominant female. The play party was a chance to make his availability known.
It was one of those nine to Whenever affairs that featured an open bar and recreational hoorders that gastronomically speaking, led nowhere. But I liked the ambiance and appreciated the opportunity to network with like-minded individuals. Plus the party was a perfect Venue to acquire a straight sub.
I watched him from the other side of the room, standing by himself looking forlorn. He was fiddling with his loin clothes and nursed a bottle of water. Yes, all the subs were uniformly dressed in nothing but loin clothes to illustrate the party’s tongue-in-cheek theme of “predator and prey.”
The Dommeswere, of course, arranged in a variety of costumes ranged from huntress to dungeon mistress. Some brought their own prey, others were there to hunt.
I was attracted to his demeanour and sensed his vulnerability almost immediately, like a liness spots a wounded gazelle separated from the herd. He appeared unchaperone, so I stalked him.
Just for fun I crept closer, playing the predator/prey game. Unobtrusively I closed the gap between my prey and his opportunity to flee. When I was maybe 5 meters away he became aware of my presence. We made eye contact across the room and he lost his ability to choose, lol. Like a Mircat fascinated by a cobra, he frozen and waited for the inevitable.
That’s the way of the world. Some of them are just born to serve. Those men will never really be content until they are Either a committed part of a FLR or a toilet slave. This one had all the earmarks of a good domestic sub.
As I breached the perimeter of his personal space, he stopped fiddling and downed half the bottle of water. I noticed his loincloth had begun growing a little tent. By the time I got close enough to check out the circle between his legs, he was practically on his knees in grateful anticipation.
I stood close enough to make anyone who wasn’t a sub feel extremely uncomfortable. Together we watched as the tent covering his loins grew into a ‘big top’. Our eyes met again and I held his gaze as the tent pole reached its zenith.
“You look like you could use something useful to do. Go get me a lime and sofa from the bar.” I smiled and saw the hope in his eyes. He was wondering if I would claim him; spoils of the hunt, so to speak. I decided to fan that flame, so I answered his unspoken question.
“The short answer is yes, but only if you do what you’re told.”
I watched him dart away, dodging obstacles between him and his Mistress’s drink. I knew he would be back in record time, eager to demonstrate his obedience. His bare asslooked good in motion. It would look better quivering under my crop. I decided to keep him, for the evening at least. He looked like he needed protection.
I wore a leather corset with thigh-high leather boots and heels, along with a black leather thong. My hair was in long dreads held in place with two steel combs at the back of my head and I carried a riding crop looped over my wrist. Over the top? Nope. Not for this party.
My new sub came scampering back, careful not to spill his first assignment. The tent in his loincloth had not disappeared but it was less obvious. Instinctively I knew small talk would be pointless with this creativity, so I decided that the direct approach would suit my needs best. But it’s gotta be fun too.
So I whipped out a joint. “Gotta light?” I said in my best Jessica Rabbit voice. He was stuck for an answer. I lifted his loin cover with the tip of my crop just to check his response level and to confirm for anyone watching that I had bagged this prey.
“I don’t see a split lighter, sub. Go get me one.” I shifted closer, at once intimidating and intimate, and trailed a poisoned red fingerprintnail along his left pec hard enough to leave a trail on his skin. “But I did see something under that scrap of clothes that might interest me later.
Hurry up sub, this joint’s not going to light itself. Move that tight little ass.”
A sharp crack across his butt with my crop launched my boy forward in his new quest.
I watched him canvass the immediate area, explaining that his Mistress needed a light. A woman dressed as Diana, the Greek goddess of the hunt, made him knee and beg for it. He returned flushed with the pride of accomplishment. I had him hand it to me on his knees with both hands, then wait while I inhaled and blew a plug of smoke in his face. Second-hand smoke is a good way to get a sub stoned while still preserving his non-egalitarian status.
Maybe it was the weed or maybe I was just tired of hunting, but he was so sweet, so eager to please, just an obedient slut searching for an owner. So lost, so … exposed. I decided to keep him, at least for a few days.
“Can you clean, sub? I am looking for a slave to pickup after me, a man-toy to wash, dry, fold and put away my laundry. A hatkey to crawl on the floor naked and service my guests, including acting as a human ashtray and a footstool When required. Is that you sub, or should I keep hunting?”
The poor thing laid his forehead on my feet with his ass in the air to demonstrate his gratitude for the opportunity to serve. By this time the theme party was in full swing. A man on his knees in front of a woman was common. Dommes had subs tethered to them on leashes. There were subs backed into corners begging and collared subs running errands for their Mistresses. I needed to collar my prey quickly to avoid poaching.
“Kneel.” I unsnapped a flexible collar I kept fastened to my thigh just above my knee and tightened itaround his neck. My Mistress name and cell number were etched into the metal tag on the collar … in case he got lost.
“I’m through here now that I’ve got what I came for. You will come home with me. I will allow you to make arrangements for your absence at work or with whoever. Otherwise your focus will be on satisfying me until I release you. I assume you are not currently in service to anyone, correct?”
“Yes Mistress, I am free to serve.”
He stared at the floor, fidgeting again, obviously waiting for permission to say more.
“Speak. You have something you want to tell me?”
He blurted out that his former Mistress had found a new sub she liked better, so after years of service she simply released him. He would be grateful to serve me if I allowed him. “Please Mistress,” he pleased.
His voice wavevered and falsely telling me his story and the paths of the situation broke my heart. This faithful older sub had been used and thrown away because his Domme fancied a younger fuck. Something inside me wanted to correct the injury.
“Let’s go. You belong to me now. Leave your clothes, you won’t need them.” I hooked a finger through the D-ring on his collar and pulled him after me. I still had a room full of prowling Dommes and excited subs to navigate through with my captured slut.
“Hands cladded behind you and stay close unless I Say otherwise.” I led him through the gauntlet of Dommes and subs acting out their fansies. He yelped once or twice as Mistresses still hunting for straight subs swatted his backside on our way out the door.
Outside in the cool night air he kept close to me. I walked him the three blocks to my building and slipped him in, appropriately enough, through a service entrance. We rode the lift in silence until he violent it.
“I just want to express my gratitude for taking me in Mistress. I was lost without a Domme and you saved me. I am forever grateful.”
“Your adoration is noted and appreciated, sub. But refrain from volunteering any other unnecessary comments. I will tell you when you may speak, understand?”
“Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress.” He was so contrite I lifted his loin clothes and played with his cock until it hardened, just to reassure him.
“Don’t worry sub, I won’t abandon you. You may squat at my feet and stroke your hard-on till we reach my floor. I assume you are experienced enough to know that you are not allowed to cum or even touch yourself without my consent.”
He grunted his assent, intent on bringing himself close to the edge without disobeing. From the sound of his grunting it must have been awhile since he had been given permission. The doors opened onto the foyer of my apartment and I tugged on his leash, forcing him to stop masturbating and scrapble after me on all fours.
In the apartment I had him stand while I reclined and briefed him on his duties. “You will wear a cage while you are serving my needs. If I want your cock I will unlock it. Otherwise you will be naked unless I dress you. Wait here.”
I had a brand new cock cage in my play room. Sort of a one-size-fits-all, as long as his one size could fit into a three and a half inch space.
“Come!” He actually stayed on his knees and crawled to me from the next room. I let him approach me like a pet craving his owner’s touch. He stopped at my feet and put his face on the floor.
“Stand.” I snatched away the loin clothes. Just exposing him forced his tool to thicken again. I had intended to stuff his deflated cock into its new home when I suddenly thought … why not?
“Would you like to cum?” I watched his semi-erect cock stretch out to its full length in seconds. Impressive.
“Yes please Mistress! It’s been so long.”
“One time before I lock you. On your knees, face on the floor, ass in the air and spread. I assume you are familiar with the standard milking position?”
“Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress!”
“Remember this sub. Remember how good it feels when I hold your cock in my hand. Remember how hard it gets. Feel how horny you become when I squeeze your hard cock.”
My other hand roamed over his body, petting, squeeze, gliding over skin and muscle that had not been touched in a long while. He shivered and whimpered while I primed him.
I used the precum oozing from his erection to lubricate him. Finally I held him firmly by the balls while I stroked him. He grunted and came for me in seconds.
“Clean up your mess. Use your tongue.
I have a colleague coming over for a chat later today. You’ll look better in something besides just a cock cage.”
I pulled a maid uniform from a closet of costumes I kept for play parties and had him try it on for size. It was one of my better garments. A classic black uniform, backless with white frills on the front and the hem of the micro-short skirt that displayed his bare ass when he bent over or curtsied. The ensemble camewith mid-thigh nylons held up with garters. The whole outfit was set off with a pair of two-inch black heels.
I had him practice walking for me. Wow. The heels really made his ass stick out. He teatered a little trying to keep his balance, but that just made the whole costume more adorable on him. So adorable.
“Come here. You may beg for the privilege of pleasure me. Would you like to Please me until my colleague arrives, sub?”
“Oh yes Mistress! Please use me as a sex tool Mistress!”
“On your knees sex tool.” His eyes widened a little when I spread my legs and he saw I wasn’t wearing underwear. He crawled cautiously forward, like a thirsty deer approaching a dangerous watering hole.
“You may lick me until the doorbell rings sub, about an hour from now. Go slow. I want to be relaxed and aroused, but not accelerating down the runway towards a takeoff, understanding?”
“Yes Mistress, slow and relaxing.”
The sub-maid relaxed me. When the doorbell ranghe backed away from my crotch and teetered towards the door on his high heels to receive my guest, no instructions required. I was impressed.
“Sofia! You look marvellous darling. You didn’t tell me you had acquired a new maid.”
“He’s just subbing. Yeah I know, I’m funny. My regular maid service is on holiday in the Caribbean someplace. I picked him up at a play party. Dio Mia! Those theme parties are becoming dangerous. Remind me to stay away from the “sub rodeo party” next month.
Apparently his former Domme got sick of him. I can’t imagine why, he’s been flawlessly ingratiating and his cock works like it’s supposed to, right on cue.
Sub, take Valentina’s jacket and anything else she wants to take off. Tina my dear, see that long zipper running along the back of his uniform? Be a dear and unzip it please.”
Valentina unzipped the maid’s uniform and we watched the skimpy garment drop to the floor. The sub stood nervously for inspection, still holding Tina’s jacket but trying not to use it as cover for himself.
“Muy Bien!” He looks good in just nylons and heels. The garter belt is a nice touch.” She stepped back and motioned for him to turn.
“Step away from the maid dress and turn slowly for me. Si, nice tight butt. Bend over and pick the uniform up.”
We watched the sub bend over to retrieve his uniform. The cock cage glistened between his legs.
“Can I see what you have locked up between his legs?” The question was rhetorical; verbal bait for the kind of objectifying language we loved to engage in.
“Of course. Here, take this little key to his little dick. See if you can make it grow for you.” I tossed Tina his key on the end of a chain and she caught it mid-air. The sub looked confused so I clarified his subservient role for him.
“Hang up her jacket and your little dress, then come here. Time to see if you can be a good little whore as well as a maid.”
The lock clicked open and the cage slide off easily in Valentina’s hand, propelled by the sub’s growing erection. She wrapped her hand around his bare cock and squeezed. Hard. The sub gasped, then whimpered. But he didn’t try to pull away.
She shifted her grip and held his erect cock in her fist like a handle, then stepped to the side and slapped the sub’s ass. The echo sounded like a gunshot. He jerked forward, but she held him in place.
“Nice. He’s definitely had some training. He doesn’t try to escape the disappoint or the pain, so he’s probably been puzzled a lot. But it looks like some Domme did a poor job of braking him in.
I can tell from the whimpering that he’s resigned to the pain. But he doesn’t accept it as pleasurable. He can tolerate it, but he doesn’t know how to look forward to it yet. Maybe you can fix that?”
“Hmmm. Can I offer you something to drink Tina? Wine? Something non-alcoholic? Come with me, I have a selection in the kitchen.”
I glanced at the sub, staring at the floor, stillWearing the heels and nylons, cock erect. My sub. My responsibility. Would I get sick of him too? Maybe. But I’d at least make sure he went to a good Domme.
“On your knees and elbows, ass up. Wait there.”
“Yes Mistress! Thank you Mistress!”
Valentina listened from the kitchen. She was incredulous.
“Mierda! your new slut is pathetic. Not that being pathetic is a bad thing in a sub. Did he come like that? Already abused and broken I mean, or is that your handiwork?”
“Not my doing, as you well know. I think he was discarded. I felt sorry for him, but you know, … he’s a sub. He gets off on abuse. You can’t feel too sorry for him or he’d be useless.
I don’t want him to overhear, but I’m already working him towards blurring that line between pain and pleasure. I’m leaning towards the whip as my instruction tool of preference. He seemed to respond well to having his ass whipped at the party. I want to find out if he can learn to love a real lashing.
Let’s push his limits and see how he copes. Personally, I enjoy myself when the sub grovels uncontrollably and I know you do too. Remember that boy you hung and whipped until he actually ejaculated?”
“Si, but that puta had something seriously wrong with him. Pain was an aphrodisiac. I sold him to an underground breeding farm. I think he’s still being used twenty-four seven, unless they moved him on to someplace worse.”
“Alright, I don’t want to know. Help yourself to a drink then we can go play with the sub. Anything in particular you would like him to do?”
“Si, can the puta lick my pussy till I’m satisfied? They usually can’t last long enough for me.”
“Claro chica! This puta will do what he is told. He’s terrified of being Dommeless, like a dog without its master. Just direct him. Do you want some privacy?”
“From you? You must be kidding, you and I have been watching one another abuse men since we were teenagers. No carriño, make yourself comfortable andwatch me put your new sub to work. Put something on your couch though. I’m likely going to make a mess.”
We sat together on the two-seater in my playroom. Tina lifted her hips and hiked her skirt up to her wait. The sub peeled off her panties and nestled his head between her tights. His face pressed against her bush, inhaling her scent, waiting for instructions.
“Sofia, por favorite, I Want to zone out and enjoy this. You know me, you know how I like it. Can you manage the sub for me?”
“Si mi amor, I will direct him. Just relax and let yourself be transported.
Pay attention sub. When you feel my crop on your ass you will begin licking. Sharp, quick strikes means lick faster. Slow, deliberate strokes of my crop means lick slower. Grunt if you understand.
Good. I may decide to use your lower dildo hole if the notion strikes me, so keep that ass stuck out and your knees spread. I might even let your cock squirt. Maybe, … if you can show me how much you like gettering whipped.”
The sub spread his legs and arched his back. His protruding ass was just too good not to take advantage of. I worked some lube into his hole with my fingers, then found the biggest dildo I had and started feeding it into his bottom slut-hole.
“You are allowed to cry and beg. It won’t make much difference. I have to see how big your ass will stretch to know who to forbid entry to. You’ll be surprised at how big some of my gay friends are.”
The sub’s cock slide along the palm of my hand like a well-trained tool. A piece of cord served as a makeshift lean to tether the sub’s balls with. I secured the loop around his sack and pulled it tight. The stiff cock hung within easy reach, but I let it bob untouched while I stretched the sub’s balls and worked the long dildo in and out of his tight hole.
Valentina was gone somewhere in her mind. I suspected orgasms were more difficult for her now than they used to be. She was still vibrant and had a body built for pleasure, but she burned through subs one after another. This one seemed capable of licking an exceptionally long time and he had Tina idling at the edge of the runway in no time, to use an escape metaphor.
To get rolling towards takeoff she needed the sub to throttle her up. I could sense the dynamic sequences that needed to take place like I was inside her head.
“Crack! Crack! Crack!”
My whip came down in quick succession on the slut’s ass. He serged into motion, double his licking. Tina panted and dug her claws into the back of his head. A few more crop strokes moved the slut into high gear and Air Valentina started down the runway gathering momentum.
“Keep licking sub! Use your tongue on her clip! Faster! Puta Mas Rápido!”
I slapped the protruding end of the dildo till the sub Shook. I grabbed his cock and pumped. The sub lost his mind two strokes into it and spurted all over the floor.
While the sub ejaculated, the 747 that was Tina lifted off the metaphorical runway and soared into the great blue yonder of orgasm.
“Huhhhh! Maldita Zorra! Don’t let him stop!”
Valentina trapped the sub’s head between her thighs and squeezed until he squealed. After almost twisting the sub’s head off she parachuted back to earth and allowed him to breathe.
Leave a Reply