He was coming at 10:00 to spend the day with her. She watched for his car and couldn't help but think about the ways things used to be. She had not always been the Mistress; she had served hard time under him.

And he was a cruel Master. He had done vile and tortuous things to her that first year, had humiliated her beyond belief. But he was only teaching her.

In truth, his deepest desire was to submit to her. So he taught her submission to teach her dominance. Now she was sure that she could not have truly known the art of control without first experiencing the power of surrender.

She looked at her watch. Where was he anyway? He had never been late. But it wasn't quite 10 yet.

Drifting again, she thought about how her reign of power had started. She had begun to feel rebellious…only slightly at first, fighting him off when he was too cruel. But then, that had only made him crueler, and she always suffered more in the end.

Finally, after much begging, he agreed to allow her to have the "full moon days." One day a month, she could be the Mistress and he the slave. But one day grew to three, then without ever discussing it again; she was topping much of the time.

Oh, how she loved this power over him! Dominance suited her personality far more than submission.

She thought about where they were going tonight and the first time they had been. He had taken her to a public dungeon.

He beat her hard that night. Others were shocked at the extremity of their play. They heard later that the Dungeon Master changed the rules of play because of them.

He forced her to undress in front of everyone. She was stark naked, except for her collar and leash. Her cunt was cleanly shaven. Above her right breast was a tattoo of her favorite flower, and a ring circled through her nipple. He had pierced her himself.

She wasn't young, but there was something about her--an air of innocent. And her size, her tiny body, made her appear more fragile than she was.

He saw the look of envy in the eyes of other Masters in the room. Yes, he was proud to call this slave his own.

Couples usually milled around drifting in and out of the play chambers. But not this time, the crowd only grew. The voyeurs were mesmerized by what they saw.

No one intervened that night, no one dared.

But that was then...she would be the cruel Dominatrix tonight.

She saw his car turn the corner. He was right on time. Too bad, she could have punished him for being late. But then again, she could punish him for no reason at all if she so desired.

She greeted him at the door. "Welcome, my dear slave, I have been waiting for you," she cooed. He came bearing gifts--thirteen beautiful fresh cut lilies and two bottles of champagne.

"Ah, you remembered my instructions from yesterday," she continued, "you know the routine, do it now!" she commanded.

As usual, she forced him to undress in the foyer. She loved seeing him naked before her. His flaccid or erect penis was always indicative of his response to her. And though his organ was usually limp at first, just being ordered to disrobe always sent him into a state of semi-arousal.

"Into the kitchen and open my champagne, I think I'll have a glass now," she said. "And don't forget to put my flowers in water."

He obeyed quietly, arranging the lilies in her favorite vase and filling it with water. When he returned with the vase and goblet, she was lying on her bed. Unfortunately, in his clumsiness he spilled a drop of champagne.

"On your knees, clean it up," she demanded.

"But Mistress," he stammered, "I am sorry."

"You will be even sorrier if you do not obey. Now, on your knees and lick it up!" she shouted.

He did as she commanded. He hated the taste of carpet in his mouth and hated even more the fibers that stuck to his tongue. But he obeyed without a word.

"Wash out your mouth before you join me. I don't want my body dirtied by your mouth."

He did as she commanded, and soon he was lying beside her, stroking her body tenderly. "Would my Mistress like a massage?" he asked.

"That would be wonderful," she replied. His strong hands knew just the right places to rub. She loved the way he massaged her--strong, deep muscular rubs intermingled with soft, sweet caresses of her skin. And always he kissed and licked as he worked up from her feet to her head.

He continued for nearly an hour. She drifted off to sleep at one point but when she awoke he was still dutifully rubbing her.

"Enough," she commanded when she had her fill. "I want to go out now." And he was very surprised she didn't first require that he satisfy her.

They spent a leisurely day, relaxing by the pool. Though at one point, she forced him to use his finger in her cunt while she floated on a raft in the pool. Luckily, no one noticed until she let out a little scream as she climaxed.

Later she forced him to follow her into the women's locker room where she locked him the stall with her and made him lick her cunt. That time she screamed loud enough that surely the other swimmers knew what was going on. They certainly stared at him knowingly when he emerged behind her.

Soon it was time for prepare for their evening out. They showered together so he could masturbate her with her hand-held shower massage. One of the first gifts he ever gave her.

She laid out his clothes on the bed. Black jeans, a white shirt and his black silk underwear. He always made a face about wearing underwear…especially women's underwear. But he rarely verbalized his complaint. Instead, he dressed as commanded.

"Now pack our toy bag," she commanded, "you know which things to bring."

He wasn't certain what she had in mind for their trip to the dungeon, but he selected her favorite items as best he could. He packed the riding crop, handcuffs, a paddle, cock ring and, of course, his collar and leash.

"Very good, slave," she said as she inspected his selection. "Now lie here like a good little boy and watch me as I dress."

She always chose her clothing methodically. Her appearance in a public arena was so important to her. Tonight, she wore her short black leather skirt with the black leather bustier he had recently bought for her.

He thought back to the day they had shopped for the bustier. He had tried to surprise her with one but she was not happy with the fit. So they went to the shop together to exchange it. It seemed to him that she tried on every one in the store as he waited patiently for her to make up her mind.

But what he remembered most was that she had left the drapes to the dressing room wide open for all of the other customers and clerks to watch. It excited her so to know they were watching her. But it excited him too.

Tonight, she added a black garter belt and stockings then slipped into her stiletto heels. The finishing touch was her favorite silk scarf that she used as his blindfold. This, she tied around her small waist. At last, she was ready.

They drove rather quietly for most of the trip. She was excited; he was hesitant not knowing what to expect. He feared she would retaliate for how she had suffered there the year before. This was their first appearance at the dungeon since their exchange of power.

Dinner was being served just as they arrived. Her dishes were a hit, of course, she being a very accomplished cook. He fixed her plate and served it to her in the common gathering room, then returned to fix his own. Then he took his place at her feet to eat.

They were one of the first couples to adjourn to the dungeon. But others soon followed.

"Remove your clothing," she ordered, "but leave on your underwear." He did as he was told, though he hated the prissy silk thing he was wearing. Then she applied his collar and leash.

"Worship at my feet," she directed. And he took his place kneeling at her feet and began to rub and caress each of them. She soon tired of his adoration.

"Remove your panties and bring me your cock ring," she commanded. He winced as she placed the Kali ring on his penis. It was, perhaps, the most painful cock ring she owned--a brass ring with nut and bolt to secure it and tiny, razor sharp teeth inside the lining. He hated it and loved it at the same time.

Again, she demanded that he kneel at her feet. She observed the activity in the room for a long while. She was always so careful about public displays of dominance and submission. She was fearful of being recognized by someone from her real world.

Soon, the Dungeon Master wheeled out a unique torture rack. It was curved into a half circle giving great access to a slave's ass. She immediately wanted to use it, but another couple got to the rack first.

"Approach the Master and request that he give up his place in line to me," she ordered.

"But Mistress," he whispered, "he was there first."

Soundly, she slapped his face. "I did not ask you who was there first. I told you to beg him to let me use it first."

Embarrassed, he approached the male dominant and told him his Mistress' request. The Master stared at her, not quite sure what to think or how to respond. She returned his intent gaze with an air of arrogance. He bowed to her and tugging at his slave stepped aside.

She joined him at the rack. "Assume your position," she directed. And he planted his feet at the base and laid his body over the device. She proceeded to tie his ankles firmly to the wooden bars. Then she handcuffed his wrists and tied the chain of the cuffs to the other side of the bars.

He was terribly uncomfortable in this position, stretched over the rack. But more uncomfortable was his cock. The pressure from the wooden platform pressed against his groin, and the Kali teeth dug deeper into his sensitive flesh.

He let out a little cry as she knowingly leaned hard against his torso driving his cock deeper against the wood. She laughed, enjoying his obvious discomfort, then removed herself after a few moments.

She retrieved her riding crop from the bag and began to warm his body with soft lashes. First, his back, then his legs and finally his buttocks. Her strokes grew stronger and stronger until red whelps started to show on his skin.

When she paused, she rubbed his whelps lightly, bringing welcome relief to his injured flesh. Then she pulled the paddle from her bag.

He instinctively knew what she was going to do, and he readied himself. He hated the paddle. The impact on his ass was so painful. And unlike the lashes of her whip, the paddle sent pain reverberating throughout his being.

The first slap hit him square on his right butt cheek. It was more painful than he even remembered. Then the next hit his left cheek. She continued with forty slaps of the paddle, twenty on each cheek.

He didn't remember when he first screamed out from the pain, but when she finished he was sobbing. Again, she gently rubbed his wounded ass trying to help him regain his composure. Then she uncuffed his wrists and untied his ankles allowing him to collapse onto the floor beside her.

The other Master was waiting, so she had little time to let him remain in a heap. Instead, she tugged at his leash forcing him to his knees and dragged him over to an empty sofa.

Had her slave endured enough pain and humiliation? She was sure that he had. She removed his collar, leash and cock ring. "Dress yourself," she ordered, "we are going home for more."

He put on his clothing as fast as he could. He never said a word during the trip back to her place. But occasionally, she laughed out loud while driving, and he wondered what she thought was so funny. Little did he know what she had in mind.

As soon as they entered her domain, she commanded that he again undress.

"Meet me in the bathroom," she commanded. She found him there on his knees, patiently waiting for her to undress and put away her clothing.

"Now into the tub, slave," she ordered.

He obeyed, crawling into the bathtub and lying down on his back. She assumed her position over him and without a word began to urinate all over his head. He opened his mouth to receive her gift without even being told to do so.

But what happened next shocked him. He was revolted and thrilled at the same time by the next gift she bestowed on him. His rock hard penis was certainly pleased.

She left him to lie there for a long while. When she rejoined him, she tenderly sucked his penis until he climaxed. But she wasn't doing it to relieve him, she knew he would find his state even more disgusting once he climaxed. And he did.

But he still managed a weak, "Thank you Mistress," before turning on the shower.

-to be continued-