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A Little Adventure (Part1)

Harry meets a new Mistress
Harry woke suddenly. Alone in a large bed, he pondered the day to come. It was to be a little trip into the relatively new, a kinky kind of adventure. He only permitted himself this sort of peccadillo when he was going to be alone for a few days. His longstanding partner and all time best friend was not really into the dark desires that lurked really deep in his subconscious and in his fantasy life.

For many years, that is precisely where they had stayed. Only too well aware of what could happen to professionals holding positions of responsibility, who had been caught unexpectedly in the glare of notoriety. When tales were told out of turn, everything other than the acceptably vanilla had been ruthlessly suppressed. Despite that, the turbulence within never really went way. Only now that it didn't matter quite so much, a little indulgence could be afforded now and then.

The anticipation, together with the sudden wakefulness had produced a noticeable stiffening below. He felt the enlarging piece, pleasuring himself gently, but then a puritanical resolve set in, and any prospect of immediate gratification was denied.

"Hell no," he thought to himself, "that must come later."

Slipping out of bed, he quickly dressed and set about the chores that needed to be done before he could go out. When these were out of the way, he took a long relaxing bath. In the warm deep water, his mind wandered back over past erotic experiences.

Harry attended a single sex, selective school and having no sisters, this had meant that for most of his teenage years there had been absolutely no social contact with girls. The resulting inexperience left lifelong anxieties when dealing with the opposite sex.

When just after his sixteenth birthday, the rising tide of hormones had suddenly cut in for Harry and his contemporaries, outlets had been severely restricted. In an explosion of experimentation, many of them had turned to their contemporaries for relief. He had been no exception.

At around the same time, placed in detention for a minor misdemeanour, he had become acutely aware of a strangely attractive blurring of the boundaries between pain and pleasure. Detention was all about physical punishment. It entailed reporting, after school, to the changing rooms by the gymnasium, stripping to shorts and canvas shoes only, and then being subjected to a vigorous workout of old fashioned drill in the gym itself. Running on the spot, press-ups, climbing ropes, that sort of thing, all under the control of malevolent prefects. Poor or unacceptable performance was rewarded by slaps on the bottom with a large gym shoe. It was experiencing these, and especially the occasional unofficial caning afterwards that had aroused him, and added to the confusion about his developing sexuality. Despite all this distraction, Harry had remained primarily attracted to females, and had sorted his ambiguities out when he reached university. Or so he thought.

All this sentimental musing resulted in another erection; but again the temptation was resisted. A counter surge of will power ensured he stepped out of the bath and then dressed in black clothes. These comprised his neatly tailored, handmade, silk shirt and trousers, shoes of a similar ilk, and his jacket. The latter was a very expensive item, beautifully designed, expertly cut, and made of very soft black Italian leather. He had owned leather jackets ever since, as a teenager, he had acknowledged his fetish for it, saved his money, and bought the first one. It had been very hard to find a man's leather jacket back then. An overhanging legacy from the Second World War had rendered that sort of clothing something of a no go area for many people. Fortunately, at the time, Harry acquired his first one; many young people were rebelling against conformity, and could get away with it. He loved the feel, and whilst a student, was hardly ever without it.

Harry was going to meet a dominatrix, not the lady he normally saw who had nurtured his kinks and helped him to explore his underlying nature over several years now, but a different one who he had not met before. No, this girl had caught his eye as he idly browsed the online mistress directory a year or so ago. She offered the prospect of something darker, with a bit more edge than he had hitherto been accustomed.

He was a patient, extremely careful man, who had been successful in his professional life by always researching new ventures thoroughly, collecting evidence, and observing patiently before making commitments. The same forensic planning approach was applied to the exploration of his darker side. Everything was risk assessed and controlled as far as it could be. The element of danger, which remained after this initial process, was what made the prospective experience even more alluring.

The lady in question, Lisa, had written a detailed profile in the directory. There were some very nice pictures as well. She was tall, dark, with very long legs and a beautiful curvaceous body. The profile was well written, deploying a style of written English that conveyed good education, and a lively mind. It was clearly laid out, and there were, for the more discerning reader, a few subliminal messages buried within the text. Her feedback was uniformly good, and had been consistently so over a significant period. Her blog indicated that she had just moved to larger premises, implying that she was doing rather well.

The profile made it very clear that only clients with a proper understanding of what was on offer need seek an audience with her. Harry had, as required, sent an email using a meticulously thought out message of approach. Lisa's response was rapid and unequivocally positive. After a couple more exchanges, the address was given, and the meeting was set up. It was not far to go, so about thirty minutes before time, Harry set off.

As he drove down the motorway, a familiar apprehension progressively built up. It was a pleasant edgy sensation that Harry knew only too well. A lifetime of taking beta blocking drugs to control his blood pressure meant that he rarely felt any adrenaline surge. He could deliver a lecture to several hundred people entirely without notes in a relaxed and confident style without turning a hair. For that reason, he had often chaired conferences, advocated in court, and delivered quite a few scientific papers. He knew this slight twinge of anxiety was really little more than a feeling of delicious expectation.

The heavens opened suddenly as he approached the city and turned into the little housing estate, which contained Lisa's place. Before leaving, he had used the internet to look at the street, and identify her house. It seemed a safe, discreet area. With heavy rain still falling, he turned his vehicle around, and was able to park right outside the front door.

Harry was good at front doors. He knew they are the key to what lies beyond. Years before, he had supplemented his income by making emergency doctor's house calls in a major northern city. Most of these were done at night, and it was work, which was not without an element of physical risk. A good clean door meant a good clean house, and usually decent people living behind it. Peeling paint, a hardboard façade, bashes and dents all were harbingers of possible trouble beyond and demanded extreme caution. This was a newly fitted door... all would be well. He grabbed his briefcase and knocked on the door, every bit the professional visitor to anyone who cared to be watching.

Lisa opened the door. "Come in," she said.

Harry went in and was met by a tall girl in her late twenties. She stood tall and exuded an immediately overpowering air of confidence. It was obvious that she worked out, and was consequently very fit physically.

"You are early," she snapped.

Harry looked at his watch. It showed he was two minutes before time, and Lisa had told him to be there early because of something she needed to do first. If anything therefore, he was a little late.

"Sorry," he said, "the traffic and the journey, means arrival isn't entirely predictable, and as you know, I don't use a mobile phone."

"Shut up, I don't care," she replied, "I am going to finish my make up, so sit there," indicating a sofa. "Look at the floor, not me."

Harry immediately realised that the game was already in play, with no time for introductory pleasantries, and accurately guessed that any further comment would only inflame matters further.

The lower floor of the house had been opened out into one large area. Two cats moved about the room. They investigated Harry. He smiled at them, having two of his own. Lisa had moved deeper into the room and was completing her make-up. Harry sneaked a sideways glance at her. She was dressed entirely in black with a tight top on which enclosed truly magnificent breasts. They were genuine and unenhanced he guessed from the hang and shape of them. Although very tall, she had a slim figure and a very well sculpted backside. Her hair was scraped back into a tight bun, and she was applying understated, but severe looking make-up. In the mirror, she caught his furtive glances.

"Look at the fucking floor, not at me," she snapped.

Lisa completed her make-up. She turned away from the mirror to face him.

"Take your jacket off and hang it up," she ordered.

Harry complied.

He sat back down again, opened his briefcase and took out a bottle of champagne, and the white envelope it also contained. He put them on a chair. Lisa walked back towards him after putting her heels on. She stood in front of him and motioned him to stand. Holding his chin and towering over him, she stared intently at his face, deep into his eyes.

Harry stared straight back. Lisa suddenly slapped his face. Harry didn't react at all, he had been expecting that.

Lisa continued to look intently at him, trying to stare him down. He stared back, and after a few seconds caught just a flicker of satisfaction lurking in the recesses of her facial expression. She knew he had seen it, just as she wanted him to. His left eye gave just a flicker of a wink; in a second, it had gone.

She slapped him again. She was established in control; she knew, he knew, she knew, she was going to have quite a bit of fun with him. The implicit contract had been made... power and control had been ceded, he trusted her completely.

"Right," she said. "From now on you call me "Mistress", and I will call you slut."

"Make a mistake and I will punish you," she continued. "Don't speak unless I speak to you, and then reply "yes" or "no Mistress" only. I don't want any backchat. Get it?"

"Yes Madam," said Harry. He made that subtle error consciously.

Lisa glared at him. She slapped his face again. Harry didn't react, he had anticipated it. She knew what he was doing, smirked faintly, and slapped him a second time. They both had entered each other's heads and the non-verbal communication was fully established.

"Right," she said, "come with me upstairs."

Harry followed her up the stairs. His face was at the same level as that beautiful arse which swayed seductively as he went up the short flight of stairs. She exaggerated the reciprocating sideways movements of her bum and stuck it out provocatively. Harry decided to accept the implicit dare, and remarked, "What a beautiful arse you have."

Reaching the top of the stairs Lisa rounded on him, glaring ferociously. He had hit the spot alright.

"Look you ignorant little shit," she said, "no backchat means no backchat, I am going to note this disobedience, and in a minute I am going to hammer your arse for it."

Harry grinned. "Don't fucking grin," she shouted at him, slapping his face again.

"Get in there."

She pushed him into a bedroom. Inside the large room was a double bed, covered with a black polythene sheet, neatly tucked in all round. A shelf ran along the top of the headboard.

"Strip," she commanded.

Lisa took Harry's personal effects from him and put them on the shelf as he rapidly took off his shoes and socks, dropped his pants, and removed his shirt, leaving only his black underpants. He stood up and looked at Lisa who in her heels was now towering above him. She stared down at him intently.

Leaning forward she pulled his underpants down. Harry had wanted her to do that, but, for fear of further punishment, could not afford to ask for it. Lisa's eyes smiled at him even if her face didn't. He liked this double-layered power exchange. He also felt very aroused being naked in front of this beautiful, powerful, and very confident woman who remained fully clothed.

She stared at him again. "I am very intense," she said slowly. "A lot of the men who come in here can't take it. They cry. They want to run away, and they beg me to stop."

Harry looked back at her and said nothing. His cock stirred a little and began to grow visibly.

"Ha," she said, "I am getting to you am I not?”

"Yes Mistress," Harry admitted.

"Right," she continued. "If you want to stop you can, and then you can piss off, no refunds either, and don't bother asking to come back. This is a once and for all test."

Harry nodded.

"Now," she went on. "I am going to test you, and see what you are made of, just say if you can't take it."

"Bend over," commanded Lisa.

Harry complied, and Lisa walked around behind him.

"Slap, Slap, Slap."

Three hard spanks suddenly and without warning descended on Harry's bottom, one on each cheek and one in the middle. He made no sound, and, as he thoroughly enjoyed this assault, pushed his bum backwards so that it was even more accessible to her.

"Aha," she said. “You have at least been well trained."

"Slap, Slap, Slap."

Three more came down. "What do you say?"

"Thank-you Mistress, please may I have some more?" replied Harry.

"How many?” she asked.

Harry thought for a second. Whatever he said would, in all probability, be increased, and if he asked for too little, she would not be impressed. "Twelve," he said quietly.

"That will be twenty four then," responded Lisa, "count them slut, any mistake and we start again".

Lisa began to spank Harry systematically. He called out the numbers accurately after each spank, his bottom increasing in temperature after each one. He began to enjoy it, anticipating each spank, and pushing up and out to receive every one. After the first half dozen or so, the pain ceased to build and he reached that place where, for a slutty submissive, a spanking becomes infinitely pleasurable. Endorphins began to flow freely, but all too soon, it was over.

"Stand up," commanded Lisa. "Well that was good, you know how to take it, you have stopped being a nuisance and trying to play me."

Harry smiled, knowing he hadn't really, but had really been quite desperate to get what had just been handed out.

"However," Lisa continued. "You so obviously enjoyed that, and I haven't yet completed the punishment you are due for remarking about my arse."

Lisa grabbed Harry's cock, which was semi erect. She slipped his foreskin backwards and rubbed the shaft very hard. "I am not impressed with this" she remarked. "It needs something to keep it up."

Lisa reached out to a set of drawers by the bed. She pulled out a flexible cock ring and put it on Harry's member, slapping it as an afterthought. "Let’s see what we can do with that."

Out of another drawer, she pulled a leather collar festooned with rings. Swiftly she put is around Harry's neck. It was very comfortable. He liked that. When it was fully fitted, she grabbed him from behind, pulling his body onto hers and biting his ear. Her body felt delicious. She let go with one hand and twisted his right nipple, pulling it outwards at the same time. The pain was intense, but so too was the pleasure that accompanied it.

"Thank-you," he murmured.

Lisa released him. Out from the drawer came two ankle cuffs also made of the same lovely soft leather. She buckled those on, and then reached under the bed and withdrew a spreader bar, which she buckled to the ankle cuffs. Harry's cock began to signal his ever-growing inner pleasure at this.

Lisa laughed, "You haven't seen anything yet," she chuckled opening another draw and taking out a further pair of leather cuffs, which she attached to Harry's wrists. "Bend over and put your hands on the floor," she commanded.

Harry complied willingly... he really wanted this.

Lisa coupled his wrists to his ankles, so that he could no longer straighten up.

"Mmmm," she mused, as she ran her hands over his still warm arse cheeks. The glow is going away. "Better deal with that." She took a long soft leather strap out of the drawer.

Without any further discussion, Lisa beat Harry's bottom with the strap. Three swats were given in quick succession. It hurt more than the spanking had, but was nevertheless deeply satisfying for Harry.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Very good," Harry replied carefully making small mistakes in the agreed etiquette.

"Right, you dirty little slut, you will get some more because you didn't address me properly," Lisa spat.

She then laid another twenty-four swats onto Harry's very red bottom. They came rhythmically, systematically moving between each cheek and the centre, as well as up and down. She concentrated on the area at the top of the thigh where the buttock cheek hangs over in a little fold. He moaned a little at the end because that many strokes had ratcheted the pain levels up again, and his endorphins no longer obliterated the discomfort.

Lisa ignored this and took out a length of rope. She doubled it up, and then tied it around Harry's waist. Next, she looped it through his collar, and skilfully tied it to pin down his arms and legs so that virtually all movement became impossible.

When this had been achieved, Lisa suddenly whipped a mask out of the drawers and pulled it over Harry's head. As it went on, he could still see through the material, but as it slipped into place, an integral blindfold fitted over his eyes and he was in total darkness.

Sensing what might follow, for the first time his senses began to register fear.

"Please Mistress; don't put a gag in my mouth."

Harry really did not want that to be done. He had concerns about breathing, and what it might do to his underlying cardiac condition. Lisa was already aware of that, and so she didn't push the issue.

"You anticipated that well didn't you?” she said. "It isn't compulsory. How do you feel?"

"Great," came the reply.

Although he was now totally immobilised in a highly vulnerable position, and unable to see or anticipate anything that might happen, Harry was feeling very good. The position he was in was comfortable, and not stressing him at all. The only sense left was hearing. There was a lot of ominous rattling coming from the bed as implements were taken out of storage and placed there.

Lisa said nothing but Harry sensed her come around behind him.

SWISH!

The sharp pain on his left buttock told Harry that something else had come into play. A few seconds later, the pain turned to a delicious hot burn.

SWISH!

The right buttock had the same experience. This time Harry realised it was a dressage whip. He was going to really enjoy this. This whip was one of his favourite implements, and he had taken huge numbers of strokes from his other mistress.

"Thank-you Mistress," he said after the second stroke "Please may I have some more?"

"How many slut?" asked Lisa.

"Twenty five," came the reply.

"Count," ordered Lisa who then proceeded to give him two lots lots of ten, all of which he counted correctly. He rapidly reached a new plateau, where the pain and the pleasure conflated into a serene and calm inner peace.

"How many more?"

"Ten," said Harry gaming her a little.

"Fuck you slut, you will get twenty for that. Count them."

Lisa beat him fast this time, all twenty coming in rapid succession with no let up. Harry was totally lost in his headspace. He just about managed to keep tally of the count.

"Now another fifty for your inappropriate remarks about my arse," said Lisa, "you don't have to count these, just enjoy them."

Lisa then piled on another fifty strokes. Unable to move he could do nothing about this punishment, and really didn't want to. After administering this beating, Lisa reached in and masturbated Harry gently. She squeezed his balls, holding them firmly she put her lips to his ear and spoke quietly.

"Well you have passed the test... you can take the pain and get the pleasure so now I am going to reward you before we go on to the next phase, when I can assure you, this will seem like a picnic."

"Let's have a look at this arse."

She stood up and pulled his cheeks apart. Harry felt the cool sensation of lubricant run down his arse crack. Next, he heard the rustle of gloves being pulled on, and then a finger rimming his hole. Bent over and roped, he had no option but to push back against the finger, which slipped neatly inside.

It felt delicious as the finger probed around inside his bum. Soon it was joined by another, and then his ring was being gently stretched. He moaned with pleasure at this intense stimulation. Next, the fingers went away, to be replaced by another cold sensation as something hard and heavy was slipped ever so gently inside.

Thinking Lisa had put a butt plug in Harry tightened down and then relaxed. A few seconds later the object started to vibrate, gently at first, but then more strongly. Harry moaned with delight. Lisa then increased the speed and force of the vibrator she had placed in Harry's rectum to the point where she obtained a stronger reaction from him. He was really flying now. This was something Harry had not experienced before, but had often fantasised about. The reality was truly mind-blowing.

"Oh fucking hell," he gasped, "that is so good."

"Well, you had better get used to it because I am going to leave you like that as I must do something in the bathroom," said Lisa mysteriously. "Just shout if you get in any trouble".

With that, she left him there, his arse buzzing with intense pleasure and losing himself in waves of exquisite joy, unable to move or do anything except be alone with these incredible sensations.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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