fs02: A Domme’s View – Arc 4 – Chapter 45

Chapter 45

We sit in silence at the grave. I just hold him. His trembling soon slows. I pet his hair.

I lose myself in thought and realize another missing piece of my dominance. Even with James I never really saw my role as being a nurturing force as much as I saw it as a guiding hand. I see now how much sway a Domme has over a sub’s heart. I really didn’t understand it before. His emotional well-being is my responsibility. It seems so obvious now, I can’t believe no one ever told me.

I see now what Cass has that I do not. Well, I mean aside from being tall, smoking hot, rich, and married. Cass closely monitors fs’s emotional state. She knows when and how to push. It’s like their whole life is built up around keeping the happiness of their roles intact. I see that now. I will evolve. I feel a twitch of disgust at my old self. It was as recent as two years ago that I thought dominance was all about getting all the oral sex that I wanted and never having to wash a dish. I under-estimated the scope of the role. That was my own fault.

Brendan frees me from my thought prison.

“Are you ready to go, Mistress?”
“Yes, pet.”

I release my grasp upon him and rise. He stands up and scoops me up in his arms. Cheeky bastard. How did he know I liked this? I give him a kiss on the cheek. I close my eyes as he carries me to the car.

In the car he speaks very little. His eyes are red and swollen. I feel lucky to have been here. I want to know you, boy.

“Lunch?”

I nod. He forces a smile. We stop after a short drive in front of a cafe.

“What’s great about this place?”
“Nothing. It’s close. Their tea is okay.”

He holds up a small padded cooler and grins.

“They don’t care if you bring your own food.”

He’s right about the tea. It’s okay. At least it’s hot. Brendan unzips the cooler and removes some sandwiches. My stomach growls. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

I pick up the sandwich and take a bite. It’s okay. It tastes like a club.

“Wait!”

I stop chewing. You’d think that I just ate some poisoned food or something. I chew slowly with a puzzled expression on my face. He holds out his hands. I pass the sandwich to him. He turns it over and passes it back to me.
I’m still puzzled. I take another bite. What the hell? Is this the same sandwich? I feel layers of flavor cascading in my mouth. It’s delicious. I chew and we make eye contact.

“You had it upside down. That reverses the layers. It’s a different experience when everything is placed in order. It’s something about the way certain tastes hit the tongue when you take a bite.”

I continue chewing with a smile on my face. Only this boy would think of that. I’ll bet that he’s an excellent cook. I listen to him jabber on about where the ham has to be, about how the mustard and pickles need to be touching this layer, and how you don’t want the lettuce directly in contact with the bread if it’s on the top but it’s okay if it’s on the bottom. This is really you, isn’t it, boy? This is just who you are.

I grin at my good fortune. I don’t need to hear the details. When will I be making my own sandwich?

When he finishes his expression turns somber. I sense him retreating within himself.

“You must come here every year, don’t you?”

He nods. I reach out and place my hand upon his. He smiles gently but his eyes remain a bit sad.

“I have a little tradition that always cheers me up after. It’s kind of silly, but will you join me, Mistress?”

I smile and nod.

After eating we drive again. He weaves down side streets, explaining that this route may seem less indirect, but it’s actually several minutes faster than staying on the main road due to the lights. He never stops thinking. He never stops trying to find a better way. He is formidable. He will be an excellent sub. He is an excellent sub.

Brendan parks the car along the curb. Up the street I see a sign covered in lights like an old movie theater. I’m intrigued. I hook my arm in his and walk with him up the sidewalk. The breeze fills my nose with his cologne. I close my eyes.

I watch him as he buys a pair of tickets. As we pass through the doors and a black curtain the flashing lights and noises alert my senses. I hear the whir of a machine as Brendan feeds a bill into a change machine. The jingle of coins follows. He looks at me with the enthusiasm of youth.

“It’s a nickel arcade. All the games are a nickel. Well, except skee-ball. That’s ten cents.”

This place has special meaning, doesn’t it? I lean into him and wrap my arms around him. I caress the back of his head with my hand.

“I used to go here with Cate when she was having a bad day. It always made her feel better.”

I pet his hair before releasing him. I will be a part of your process, Brendan. I will share this with you.

We wade through the beeps and boops of this retro style arcade. It reminds me of that pizza place that I always wanted to have my birthday party at back when I was a kid. It had like a talking rat or something. Or was it a gorilla? Or was it both? Or was that two different restaurants? Why do I get hung up on such trivial things like this? I’ll have to search the internet later. The truth is, I’ve never cared for games. Well, I wasn’t good at them, which made me not really want to do them. That was a boy thing.

Brendan sticks to games that we can play together. We race cars. We shoot things. I’m having fun because he’s looks alive. I hear him talk about the games he loved when he was a kid. We pass some skill cranes. I think of Freddie at the fair, getting me my handcuffs. Too bad these just have ugly stuffed animals and footballs.

Before long we end up at the skee-ball games. Now this I remember. I was so bad at it. Brendan starts feeding money into the machines. The clunk of the wooden balls rolling down the ramp brings back a feeling of nostalgia. Brendan starts playfully talking smack about his high scores. I get him back by grabbing his chastity cage through his pants. He rolls a 0. Venus laughs. I laugh. The tickets churn out from the machine between every game. You’re such a dork, Brendan, but this is fun because I’m with you.

When the nickels are gone he tears off our tickets and begins folding them up. He escorts me over to the prize counter. I look into the glass case and see exactly what I want. I can’t hide my grin as the boy behind the counter retrieves my handcuffs and costume ball eye mask. With the remaining tickets I get a pencil eraser with a heart on it. I hand it to Brendan. He smiles.

In the car I play with the crappy toy metal handcuffs. These are the lame ones with the safety release latches, not like the ones I had when I was younger. I hold the mask over my eyes and give him a kiss on the cheek as he drives. He smiles. I hope this cheered him up. I’m sure it was better to be here with someone.

“Take us back to the hotel, boy.”
“Yes, Mistress.”

I grin. I’ve waited long enough. I feel Venus in sync with me.

We pace through the lobby. I cling to Brendan’s arm. He’s trembling. I like that. I remain silent in the elevator and all the way to the room. Inside I lock the bolt and chain and tilt my arms back. Like a good boy he helps me out of my coat. I break the silence.

“Take off your clothes and kneel in the corner with your hands behind your back. Lock your fingers. Do not speak for any reason. Do I make myself clear?”

He nods. His eyes quiver. I terrify him. Good. I roll my suitcase into the bedroom and close the door. I hear the clatter of his belt and his keys. Good boy. I retrieve my siren outfit from the case and strip down. The fur lining slides gently against my skin. I embrace it with a deep breath. I tingle. I zip myself up and put on the stockings, gloves, headband, jacket, and boots. I touch up my makeup in the mirror. I slide the claw onto my finger. I flex my thighs together and bite my lip.

Your Mistress is ready, boy. Don’t disappoint. I grab a cloth bag from the suitcase and return to the living room. Brendan’s naked and trembling body faces the wall. His fingers fidget while intertwined. My breath shudders as I exhale. I’m so wet.

I set the bag down behind him and empty its contents. I buckle the leather collar around his neck. I secure it with a lock along with a chain dangling down his back. The cold steel leaves a trail of goose bumps as his hairs stand up. I can hear him breathing heavily. That pleases me.

I handcuff his hands behind him with a pair of steel cuffs. I run the handcuff chain through the shackle of a padlock and secure it to the chain down his back. I give it a tug. It holds his hands at that height. I close the leg irons around his ankles one by one. With my foot I nudge his knees apart. I reach through and grip the steel cage around his sex. I pull the chain forward connecting the leg irons and lock it to the front bars of his chastity cage. He won’t be able to straighten his legs.

“Turn around.”

I watch him struggle to shuffle on his knees. This amuses me. I smirk. When he finally faces me I can see his penis throbbing hard against the bars. Dirty boy. He looks up at me and goes white. I’m his fantasy. I quickly lock one end of a chain to his collar and pull downward.

“A good slave doesn’t look at his Mistress without permission.”

I don’t really mean that. I want him to want me. Telling him not to makes him want it more. When he’s hunched over far enough for my tastes I lock the chain to the top of his chastity cage.

“How do you feel, boy?”

His breath pants. He makes some small whimpers. Delicious. The tingles course through me.
“We’re not done yet”

I retrieve the last items. I hold the hat in front of his face. It’s pink and with a large fur pom pom on the top, just like in his drawings. This one is special. I had it made just for him. I hold it in front of his face.

“I’m sure you’ve heard women that say they wish men would wear a sign stamped on their forehead saying what they really are. I agree with them, which is why a slave in my household will always display what they are on their forehead.”

I rotate the hat to show the neon pink embroidery: ‘Disgusting Sissy’.

He lets out a groan that sounds like it hurts. I hope it hurts. The truth hurts. He lets out a cry as I pull it onto his head.

“And of course you’ll need something to make sure that you can’t take it off and hide your shame.”

I present the earmuff harness, just like fs’s. I begin buckling the leather straps around his head, pulling them tight. I follow up by locking every buckle. He’s shaking. I can hear the chains clanking. I gave it a 50/50 chance that I would use these. I retrieve the nipple clamps from my pocket. Venus screams, yes.

I apply the clamp to each of his nipples and tighten them. He squeals and squirms. I flex my thighs together and tighten them one more twist.

 

I take a step back and admire my work. His face is bright red and shows his anguish. He squirms against the restraints, letting out small squeaks and whimpers. Venus feasts upon his suffering. I feel alive.

I pace my way over to the coffee table and tap my foot on the ground.

“Come here, slave.”

He struggles, jingling the chains, and shuffles with a series of grunts and groans, slowly inching his way across the carpet. He topples over and plants his face into the floor. I giggle while he pants, attempting to steady himself. He finally reaches the spot and exhales with accomplishment. I bend down and release his left wrist from the cuff, closing it again so that his right hand remains limited by the chain down his back. I probably should have used a bondage belt. Mental notes.

“Place your left hand behind you until I permit you to use it.”

He gingerly guides his hand back behind him.

“You should feel proud, boy. I made this trip to see if you would be a suitable companion for me and you have passed my test.”

I pause and look over his reaction. I’m guessing the nipple clamps are making it hard to think straight.

“I once asked you what it would take to get you to come to me. You said, a promise.”

I place the first stack of papers on the table in front of him.

“I’m not sure what kind of promise that you are looking for, but I know what kind of promise that I am looking for. With your history, I would guess that you would need me to marry you.”

He nods. I see you, boy. I can read you.

“You will live with me for six months. If things work out, I will marry you. If I marry you, I will require a pre-nup. You may read it. I permit you the use of your left hand.”

I watch as he holds his bowed head over the documents on the table. He studies each page carefully before turning it. I lose myself in thought. Theresa told me this was the second most unfair legal agreement that she had ever drafted, the first being Cass and fs’s post-nup. It basically says that if I divorce him, he will have nothing and if he divorces me, he will have nothing.

His hand trembles as he goes through it page by page. When he gets to the end he lowers his head and sets his chin on the table. His face looks dejected.

“Would you find signing this acceptable?”

He shakes his head. Venus jumps inside me and wants to scream. I temper her. Fuck. Amanda. I forgot about Amanda. He’s an easy read. I should have thought of that.

“Let me guess, you would need stipulations added that affect how this applies and the reasons for me divorcing you.”

He nods. I didn’t plan for this to be a negotiation but I wasn’t sensitive to his past. Even subs need protections.

“Would you find it acceptable if I limited the reasons to documented disobedience, unfaithfulness, and failed performance in service? I suppose if it was for a reason like me being tired of you or changing my mind you would want access to enough money to get you a place to live, food, and transportation.”

He nods again.

“I find your requests to be reasonable.”

I jot some notes on the front page and return them to the folder.

“I would also want you to take my last name. My last name is Schneider. Do you find this acceptable?”

I set down the name change paperwork in front of him. It’s incomplete but it just requires some dotting of i’s and crossing of t’s to put things in motion. He skims it and nods.

“After being married for six months I would expect additional consolations. Power of attorney. Your financial dependence. Sole ownership of all bank accounts and property.”

I set down a series of legal documents in front of him. His body shakes as he reads.

“Do you find this acceptable?”

He closes his eyes and nods. This is getting real for him.

“Before I go onto the last document, I have a plan for your relocation. I would expect you to sell off all of your possessions and convert them into cash. That cash would be placed in an account and used to facilitate the move and to cover your living expenses. These will be documented with receipts. If either of us feel the situation is untenable after six months, you will be free to leave and returned the remaining balance. Do you find this acceptable?”

He nods. I place the last document in front of him in a stack. This is the most important part.

“This will be our contract between Mistress and slave. There are certain sections that will need your information. The rest of it stands as I see it. The terms of this contract are non-negotiable and once signed, they will be the law that we live under. This contract has no renewal dates. You will have no power to change things while I will have the power to revise and make changes as needed. The only protections you will have will be the hard limits that I approve for you.”

I sit back and watch as he goes over the contract. It’s long. I was thorough. I give him very little. I take a whole lot. I give him no orgasm provisions but I allow him to request milking. At home he will not have access to any outside communication without permission. I covertly rub my crotch while he reads.
He goes through carefully, page by page. His hand shakes as he goes. When he finishes he sets his chin down on the table. He looks sad.

“Do you find this acceptable?”

He shakes his head. I lean forward and remove my hands from my lap. Why? This should be exactly what you wanted?

“What’s wrong with it?”
“Even Wanda von Dunajew offered Severin the condition that she must always wear furs.”

Venus roars. Cheeky boy. A sly grin parts my lips. I gnash my teeth.

“I will grant you this lone concession, within reason. I am not going to be wearing fur on a 90 degree day. Will that make it acceptable?”

He nods. I rise from my seat and release his nipple clamps. I remove his leg irons and unlock them from his cage. I unlock the front chain from his chastity cage but leave it attached to his collar. I remove the chain and handcuffs from behind him.

He slumps to the floor. The posture and clamps obviously took their toll. He begins to weep. Gently, softly, he weeps.

“What’s wrong, boy?”
“I’ve never felt so happy.”

My heart twitches. I want to hold him. I resist the urge. I am happy, too.

“This is the promise you wanted. That I would promise to make you completely mine and never let you go. That I would promise to trap you within my web.”

He nods and closes his eyes. He looks peaceful. Venus is hungry. I drag the claw up his back. I feel his muscles contract as he bunches up his shoulders. Watching his naked body quiver under my touch is so delicious. I pick up the chain that is still attached to his collar and pull. He rises to his knees. I read the embroidery on the hat and laugh.

He blushes. I yank the chain and he rises to his feet. I tap the chastity cage with my claw. His breath shudders. I give it a little rake and watch his body shudder. I slide it up his naval, across his torso and up to his nipple. I give it a few light taps and a little poke. He squeals and squirms, his chastity cage bobs with approval. I feel my stomach tighten.

I lead him into the bedroom and unsnap the crotch piece with my free hand. I toss it at my suitcase. I take a seat on the bed, turning to face him. I pull the chain and guide him to his knees. His nostrils flare with every breath. I gather some of my juices on my finger and smear them on the tip of his nose. The pulse of his breathing increases. I want my pussy to fill his senses. I pull the chain, bringing his face close to mine. He trembles. I ache. I whisper to him.

“What does the disgusting sissy have to say to his Mistress?”

His breathing speeds up. He can’t look me in the eye. I smirk.

“I love you, Mistress.”

My smirk becomes a smile. I plunge my tongue into his mouth. My kiss is violent. I tug the chain hard and ravage his mouth with mine. My other hand grabs the leather straps on his head harness and holds him in place. I feast upon his soul. This boy is mine. He gasps for air between kisses. I cup my mouth over his and blow air into his lungs. Feel the heat you have stirred in me, boy.

One more long, open-mouth kiss. I pin his tongue with mine. I want to devour you. I want to consume you. I own you.

I retract my lips and shove him away. I lie back on the bed and spread my legs. I’m ready for you, boy. I tug the chain. I look up and watch him quickly suck his fingers. His mouth finds my clit. I raise my legs over his shoulders. He rises slightly and tilts my hips. A smile curls over my face. This boy knows what he’s doing.

I feel his fingers enter me. I let out a moan and tighten my thighs against his head. What’s this? The fur on his earmuffs presses against the skin on my thighs. I squeeze harder and moan as his tongue circles my throbbing clit.

I grind into him as his fingers massage my G-spot while his lips and tongue continue to work. I let out a small cry. My body squirms and wriggles. My legs begin to tremble. His tongue goes around and around, over and on, back and forth. His head swivels within my grasp, rubbing my thighs with the fur as he goes over my clit again and again.

I feel his other hand on my pelvis. He applies pressure, forcing more of my clit to the surface. He licks and licks. I give him a gentle kick with my heel. He speeds up. I begin to moan rhythmically with every gyration of my hips. Faster. Faster. I feel another finger. I let out a cry. Pump, pump, pump. My breathing is so hard, so heavy. I tilt my head back and arch my back. I cry out. My pelvis bucks as the muscles spasm. I explode on his face with a long moan.

He doesn’t stop. He eases the pressure. He keeps moving, gently. This boy. I love you, boy. I clench my thighs against his head again and he picks up the pace. My hips buck again and again and again. I feel his tongue flatten against me. Up and down, back and forth, around and around he goes. My eyes blur. I grip the chain tighter. I clench my thighs tighter. I grind and I grind and I grind. My msucles begin to shake. I let out a moan. Another. Another. I feel him on me. He flicks it rapidly. Firmly. I press my hips to the sky and cry out, thrashing my arms against the bed.

My boy. My beautiful boy. I can barely hold my head up as he passes through his ‘gentle’ cycle. I need this. I need you, boy. I squeeze again with my thighs and dig my heel into his shoulder. His lips cup and press. Another finger. I shimmy my thighs back and forth against the fur. He rises more, adjusting the angle. I’m flat on my shoulder blades, my head swivels from side to side. I start spouting whatever words come into my head.

“Disgusting sissy… you’re mine… you’re mine… I own you… you exist just for me. Show me your love.”

I feel his shoulders stiffen below me. The pressure of his fingers inside me becomes more focused, moving faster, he finds the sweet spot. His lips cup me. He flicks and presses his tongue. I feel his head shake in quick motions, rubbing the fur against my thighs. Faster, harder. Faster. Harder. His lips cup tighter and begin to suck. His tongue keeps moving. Faster. Harder. His fingers press and gyrate on the spot. I cry out. My hips buck. I pant. I release the chain and make fists, gripping the bedding. His fingers around my clit start to squeeze and circle. My eyes roll back. I force my head back and my hips up. Harder. Faster. I scream as my body flails my legs lose control and shake like rubber. My hands release and tremble. My hips and back shake and flail. Harder, faster. His tongue makes one final press. I slam my hips forward and scream again. My body loses all control. I feel the spray as I cum. I let out a deep exhale and collapse limp on the bed.

Tears form in my eyes. My magnificent boy. My disgusting sissy. My pet. My love. You hunt the white whale. I start to laugh as my body continues to tremble. I’m so fucking happy. I’m so happy I’m with you right now.

Brendan gently lowers my hips back to the bed. He crouches down and lets my legs slide off of his shoulders. I close my eyes and just breathe. It’s all I can do. I feel like if I stop, this moment will vanish.

I slowly raise my head up from the bed to see his face. I smile. He smiles back at me. I laugh. He looks fucking ridiculous. He blushes and closes his eyes like a good sissy.

“I love you, pet.”
“I love you, Mistress.”

I pat the bed in front of me and slide up. Brendan climbs on. His chastity cage is dribbling. I would punish him for being disgusting if I had the energy. He snuggles up next to me. I’m the big spoon. I breath in through my nose and exhale my warm breath on his neck. My hand touches his collar and traces it around his front. I pull up the chain and strain to reach the lock sitting on the nightstand. I grasp it firmly and lock his collar chain around the bed post. You’re mine tonight, boy. I marked you. With my scent.

I’m so happy that I’m here with you, my beautiful boy. I snuggle up tighter and wrap my warm around him. Can you feel my breath? The silence is soothing. My mind is so clear right now. I know what I want. I whisper to him.

“Why did you choose me?”
“I always seek out the best. I told you that.”

I kiss his shoulder.
“Are you sure it’s not just because I wear fur?”
“Can’t that be part of being the best?”

I let out a gentle laugh. Cheeky boy.

“I see you, boy.”
“Thank you, Mistress. I love you.”

My eyes grow heavy. I forgot how much I missed the warmth of having someone close. This is real, right? It’s not some crazy dream I will wake up from and forget. I drift off to sleep.

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4 thoughts on “fs02: A Domme’s View – Arc 4 – Chapter 45

  1. Very, very hot stuff. I love that Wanda chains him to the bed after. The message is clear: “I love what you did and I may require you to do a lot more. At my command, a lot more.” How sweet. How selfish. Good for Wanda.

    Liked by 1 person

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