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At The Master`s Command (Robert Newman)


At The Master`s Command by Robert Newman

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    • Average 4.0 from 1 ratings

Diana is a dominatrix. Always. Her husband Peter is a dominant, too. Their happy coexistence is aided by their committed and willing slave Jessica.

One day Peter confesses to Diana that he would like to possess her, his wife. The idea does not make her happy, but as a gesture of love she agrees to be his possession for a week, with Jessica filling in as his wife. So as not to waste a moment of his week, Peter subjects Diana to a series of punishments and indignities, with strict bondage the order of every day. She is abused again and again, including a very public fancy dress party where she is to be the slave of honour, and culminating with a visit by the mysterious Joanna, who has sadistic ideas neither of them had ever thought of.

When the week is over, Diana gets her revenge on Joanna.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 07 / 2005

No. words: 30700

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Fem Dom - F/M

Available Formats: PDF  MS Reader  


Excerpt

After breakfast I had a shower and was put naked in Jessicaís box. We sometimes call it the coffin because it does look like one. I have never felt as alone as I did in there. I knew I was not really alone, but he and Jessica seemed so far away from my prison. Peter ordered me into the place she had occupied herself so often in the past and like a meek submissive I obeyed him. Considering it was purpose-made for Jessica it was a surprisingly good fit, but then she and I are about the same size.
The locks sounded much more solid as they clicked into place, but the padded wrist bands were not uncomfortable. Next Jessica closed the end panel - like stocks with holes for the feet - and locked it in place. So far so good. I could hardly move my head, but it was like being surrounded by a very snug bed. The first part of the lid closed above my head and kept my forehead locked down. Next, another hinged part went across my neck. It was not at all tight, and I felt no panic. I imagine claustrophobic people would have been yelling blue murder by now.
My legs and stomach were the next to be covered - I felt rather than saw these because I could no longer raise my head. Jessica kissed each of my naked breasts before covering them, then drew her fingers along my crotch, placed them to her mouth and closed that also. All that remained uncovered now was my face, and it was then that the first fear came to me. Jessica must have experienced this before, because - even though we had commanded her to be the ďmistressĒ for the week - she leaned close to me, kissed me on the lips and said ďIíll never hurt you mistress. You will be safe.Ē This really made me feel better as the closure of the last lid cut out nearly all light and most of the sound. I was aware of a small amount of light near my face, and knew this was from the small hole in front of my mouth and the various ventilation holes within the box.
Jessica took my hand and asked if I was all right, and I gripped her hand to signify I was. I heard Peter mumble something before she unclamped my hand and I felt my fingers pushed into her warm wetness. I was capable of little movement other than my fingers, so it was up to her to get her pleasure from me, and that is what she did, riding my hand until I felt and sensed, rather than saw or heard, her climax. I could also sense Peter watching.
And then I was left alone. I was unsure of whether Jessica had left the room or not, but I donít think so. Itís strange that when you are deprived of some senses the others become heightened, and I am sure she was there. I realised that time would be my enemy here. I had not been told, but I imagined was to be here, thanks to Peter, for several hours, with nothing to occupy my mind except my mind. I tried thinking of all manner of things, many unrelated to my curious situation. The charity do Iím organising, the holidays, the gym..., but I couldnít concentrate on any. In the end I started looking around my surroundings. Perhaps a strange thing to say because I could hardly see anything, but nevertheless I could almost sense the box around me. It was frightening yet comforting at the same time. Frightening for all sorts of reasons - the dark, the silence, the isolation, the unknown. Comforting because I felt as though I had been regressed, experiencing the sort of comfort a child feels when taken in a parentís arms and told that everything will be all right. Maybe I had returned to the comfort and security of the womb, at least Iím sure many learned psychologists would have seen it that way.
For some reason as I lay there I felt very close to Peter and to Jessica, to the point where I felt a tear escape my eyes. I was in othersí hands. No argument, there was nothing I could do about it. My comfort and well-being were no longer mine to control. I fought back sudden waves of panic by believing that neither would not allow any harm to befall me, and started to relax again. I have no real idea how long I was there between their visits, which were, I imagine, quite frequent. Sometimes Jessica brought me genuine refreshment - light snacks: biscuits, a sandwich and drinks, for which she opened the lid over my face and fed me. The light, each time the lids were opened, was blinding and being unable to shield my eyes was quite disturbing
At other times Jessica simply used my hands, presumably under Peterís instruction. I would feel one or other unclamped and my fingers would be pulled into contact with her. Afterwards I was re-clamped. Again the heightening of the senses made me appreciate more the outlines of her vaginal area, almost as if I were exploring her for the very first time. Sometimes she touched my erogenous zones, and at other times not. On at least one occasion I could tell he was whipping her as she lay across the box face down, since - deliberately or otherwise - the whip caught my hand several times.
Just once I felt Peterís penis pushed into my hand, and had the curious experience of trying to masturbate him when all I could move was one arm. It sounds as though that should be enough, but I didnít do a very good job and somewhat impatiently he opened the lid above my face and masturbated himself until he sprayed me. Some went in my eye too, which smarts a lot and always makes my eye red. I guess I should have closed them, but I do like to watch him come. Afterwards he closed the lid and I felt his spunk going cold and trickling down my face and neck. Iím not so keen when it goes cold.
Thankfully Jessica was not far away when I got a cramp in my calf - I could feel it coming on and there was nothing I could do to stop it, but she massaged the knotted muscle until it was relieved and she made sure I was comfortable before she closed me in again.
Would I go in the box again? Not willingly, certainly, but I have to ask myself whether this was willing. Was I simply commanded to go in there? The answer, of course, is that I was commanded, but I was willing to be commanded, and this is perhaps the most significant thing about a good submissive and a good dominant. I was not sorry when Jessica came to me and unclamped me from the box. She had brought me to the brink of a climax numerous times without completing it - perhaps to reinforce the message that there was nothing I could do - and when she helped me to my unsteady feet and took me to the warm, scented bath she had prepared, I was more than happy to lie back and enjoy her bringing me off with her fingers in the warm water as Peter looked on. I was unbound then yet felt just as captive. It never even occurred to me to do anything with my own arms. I felt stiff and tired and sweaty, but afterwards I felt wonderful, all except for the feelings of anticipation I had for whatever Peter had planned next. As I thought of that my heart rate and my breathing quickened.


Author Information

I'm a publlished mainstream author who also lives the BDSM lifestyle. It makes life very interesting, especially when people ask for advice they assume I have. Which suits me just fine!

This allows me to base many of my stories and books directly on real life, with the participants' names changed or disguised for their protection.

 

Publisher Information

Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com


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