Mistress paces back and forth before me. Her boots click on the floor. I hear the crop tap against her glove. I bend slightly at the waist. My back aches from this position. I do not dare to look at her. Her aura intimidates me.
It has been over a month since our “slave weekend” experiment. Things did not return to normal. Normal evolves. Mistress evolves. Our one day was enough to change her. The core of her dominance hungers for more. Her mind keeps it lightly in check. She knows the boundaries and treads the lines carefully. The scars and brand on my back were removed with plastic surgery. It took some time to heal. Mistress deems me well enough.
I model the newly designed uniform version 2.0 for her. Mistress evolves Kimmy’s original designs to her liking. The punishment lining returns. It’s just as uncomfortable as I remember it. It fights tighter and more restricting, contributing to more itching and chafing. The external fur is thicker and more obtrusive. It makes me clumsier and more self-conscious. The collar is new. It sits taller and hides a stiff posture collar beneath the surface. I cannot turn my head and it permits only minor tilting up and down. Also new are snug-fitting rubber gloves that buckle inside the sleeve. These are very slick and reduce my coordination. Anything glass must be held with both hands. I can tell the material leans heavily toward comfort in sexual contact. The original belt has been replaced by the bondage muff that Mistress had me wear in the park. It feeds through the dress’s belt loops and locks at the back. .
The head-wear features new designs as well. The hat is thicker with its lower brim contoured to cover the ears more. The fur pom is larger and heavier than before, it shakes and wobbles with every motion, providing additional distraction. The front brim has a patch on it that can be embroidered with different phrases or designs. Mistress showed me several hats before settling in on the current one. “sissy maid,” “fur sissy,” “pet,” and “slave,” were bypassed in favor of a male symbol. The earmuff harness is new as well. The fur is larger and more absurd looking. The strap angles and widths have changed, they fit tighter now, connect to the collar, and provide constant discomfort on my jaw and neck. The peripheral blinders are permanent on this version. The gag is still locking and a penis gag finds its way into my mouth the majority of the day. She releases it only for meals, when she wishes to put my tongue to use, or some of the times we talk late at night.
My ankles are nearly always connected with a 12 inch chain. Thankfully there are no restrictions on chain rattling. The higher connection point on the boots keeps them from dragging on the floor. The stockings are a new version. I was excited at first as these include some thin knee padding to reduce the wear and tear from kneeling. I now abhor them, the inner layer of “padding” is actually packed with dry rice that painfully digs into my knees when I kneel… and I kneel a lot now.
Another change is the chastity belt. The new penis tube is coated in pointy rubber studs. They aren’t painful, but they do make erection attempts more uncomfortable as the rubber digs into the skin and drags. I can’t picture the mind of the people who design these. Mistress decided to bring the locking plug back. This one is a bit smaller but also has a bunny tail on the end. It makes me even more self-conscious about being filled in. She removes it before bedtime and I am permitted bathroom breaks before bed and in the morning before she locks it back into place.
The final touch is slightly familiar but different at the same time. It is the same type of harness as the nipple stimulators that I tested in the Adult department at Mistress’s shop. This design is not for pleasure. Four metal pincers coated in studded rubber clamp down on my nipples like a drill bit and lock in place. A chain connects the two. If the chain is pulled, the clamps ratchet tighter. Mistress starts them at a pressure I would describe as “discomfort.” With an earlier test she showed me their pain potential. I never want to experience that ever again. She playfully calls them my nipple cuffs.
Mistress continues to pace. My knees ache from the rice. My back throbs from holding a position that keeps my face lowered. My hands fidget together within the muff.
“Today, slave, I will inform you of the new rules.”
I nod by forcing my body to move at the waist.
“From now on there will be no eye contact. If I want eye contact I will order it or force your face to look at mine.”
My heart sinks a little. I love Mistress’s eyes. That is where I see her love. I have taken it for granted.
“There will be no speaking unless instructed to do so. That should be obvious with the gag. This restriction will continue even if the gag is removed.”
This doesn’t instill a reaction in me. It’s similar to our current speech protocols and no different to how things were when Kimmy was around. It occurs to me that this may affect our conversations while spooning. I feel a twinge of disappointment. I fight it off, not wanting to jump to conclusions. Time will tell.
“You will no longer be permitted to sit. Your pet bed has been donated to Goodwill. If you aren’t performing chores, you will stand at attention or kneel.”
Mistress turns and takes a step. The front of her robe flows open as she turns. Her scent is strong. My beautiful Mistress. She embraces more of herself. She grows.
“The size of your anal plug will vary based upon your obedience from the previous week. You are wearing a size 1 plug. They go all the way to 5, increasing in both length and girth. The size will be chosen at my discretion. I may simply get bored or wish to stretch you out.”
I shudder. I hate being plugged. She knows this.
“Keep your hands in the muff when they are not in use unless instructed otherwise.”
I feel agitation brewing. I anticipate greater humiliation on the horizon.
“Finally, slave. I have decided. Since it is not protected by your contract, I have decided to get rid of your yearly orgasm. It just seems silly for a slave to feel entitled to something that I do not wish to grant. You may as well accept that now.”
My breathing becomes uneven. I close my eyes. The gag hides my frown. My sex strains uncomfortably within the tube. My mind spins. Why does this turn me on?
“All of these rules will supersede any orders given by others in my stead. You have gotten too familiar and casual with some of my friends, slave. It reflects poorly on me. They hold the right to beat you for disobedience. I can promise you that what I do to you will be worse.”
I hang my head.
“Bow, slave, and “kiss” my feet.”
I lower my forehead to the ground. She approaches. I raise my head slightly and press the front of the gag to her feet. First the right foot, then the left. I smell her. Her sex hungers.
She terrifies me. The sadism blends into her. Her new normal. I love her. She would not put me through this unless she knew I could endure.
“Do you have any questions, slave?”
I nod by moving at the waist. I tap my finger to the front plate of the belt. I make a cupping motion with my hands. I place my left palm facing up and my right palm on top of it. I raise my right hand and gesture “full.”
“I see you have noticed that I haven’t milked you in a month.”
I nod and make another cupping motion. I ache.
“What do you want me to do about it, slave?”
I blush. I hang my head in shame. My fingers fidget inside the muff.
“If you don’t answer in 5 seconds I will assume it’s fine.”
I quickly retrieve my hands and signal “stop.” I curl my fingers into a loose fist and make a jerking motion in front of the plate.
Mistress howls with laughter. My face burns red. I feel my emotions battle within me.
“That’s cute, slave. Guess again.”
Tears fill my eyes. I climb onto all fours and raise my behind. I reach back with one hand and simulate the same motion at my anus. I whimper.
“Convince me, slave.”
I cry. I continue, exaggerating the motions in both length and speed.
“So are you begging me, slave? Do you want something up your ass like a little slut?”
I sob and nod. The humiliation kills me. It’s easier when it just happens. It’s harder to have to ask for it.
“Ass slut, I like that. I think I will have a hat embroidered with that just for you.”
My face is on fire. Tears stream down. I feel the limit shatter in my soul. I don’t want to admit it.
“Get on the horse, slave. I have a new toy just for this.”
I bow and crawl across the floor to the horse. I climb on and line my wrists up with the eyelets. Mistress locks my wrists to the horse and secures the ankle chain. She unlocks and removes my plug. I wince.
I hear rustling behind me. A few minutes pass. My tears continue to flow. Mistress’s steps approach. She stops in front of me, showing off her new toy. It’s a new version of the Reverb, secured to her with a harness. Its base is thick and it extends outward. The tip of the dildo changes in shape and resembles a prostate wand.
Mistress takes it in her hand and jerks it around. She moans. She turns her hips and bangs the tip against my cheek. She traces it along my cheeks, circling under my eyes. She rubs it from the tip down the shaft while she laughs.
“Using tears as lube, what could be more perfect?!”
I struggle against my bonds. She terrifies me.
“You are a joy to tease, slave. It makes me so wet.”
I hear her moan again.
The cold silicon spreads my cheeks. A trickle of gel on my skin. I tense. I sob. She enters me. She plunges deep. I wail behind the gag.
Mistress laughs and moans.
“Take it like an ass slut, slave.”
She goes in and out. Her hips slap against my rear in rhythm. I squeal. She pants and speeds up. Her skin slaps mine. Her hands tighten against my waist.
It hurts. I close my eyes tight. Tears stream. She violates me. It’s not rape if I begged for it, right?
My face burns with shame. I feel her hot juices trickle down my thighs.
Mistress continues with her thrusts. I slump and take it. My tears continue. My body can’t fight it.
Her laughs fade as her moans continue. I feel my penis tube fill with warm liquid and drain. I am relieved. Mistress continues her onslaught.
I’m her fuck hole. In and out she goes. Harder, faster, deeper. Her hips slam hard against my thighs. Her panting tells me she’s close. She plunges deep. Deeper. Deeper. She lets out a cry. Her fingers dig into my sides. I feel the Reverb shake within me.
She pulls out. I lay and sob.
I hear the unbuckling of straps behind me. A clatter on the floor. Her boots click away. The gate closes behind her.
I’m too exhausted to move. My mind clears up for a single thought. Thank you for milking me, Mistress.