I stood in front of the door and waited. The email message said to appear exactly at 4:00 p.m. I was nervous, scared, and excited all in one. Hoping I was at the correct address, I checked the message for the third time. I looked back at my watch and stared at the second hand as it ticked closer and closer to the hour. Just as the final second ticked off, I hear a click at the door as if a bolt lock had been removed. I put my hand on the knob and turn it slowly.

"Mistress," I said out loud.

But not too loudly, as the word was unfamiliar in my mouth. No answer from the other side. I turned the knob all the way around and the door opened. I slowly pushed it open and stepped into a dark room.

A single ray of light peeked in through an open blind from one window, casting a small patch on the wooden floor in the center of the room. Just out of the light, barely in the shadows, I spied the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was dressed all in black leather. A tight bustier wrapped around her top, accentuating her form and long black britches covered her legs ending in what I could guess were four inch heels, also black leather. A studded black belt completed the outfit. Her features were hard to make out in the darkness, yet a piercing gaze was evident. I could see quickly that this was a woman in control.

I had only been staring for seconds when I heard the words, "What is slave looking at?"

Before realizing my mistake, "I am looking..."

"Shut Up Slave!" spitted from her mouth. "Turn your eyes downward to the floor!" she added.

My mouth closed in obedience and fear. I immediately turned my eyes to the floor directly before my feet.

"This will be your only warning slave. You will never refer to yourself in the first person ever again in my presence. The words I, me, or mine are forbidden. 'This slave' or 'this one' will be appropriate. Do you understand slave? "

I nodded in agreement, afraid to utter any words.

"You may eventually call yourself 'Mistress's slave' if you prove to be worthy of such."

I finally uttered the words, "Yes, Mistress," very softly. Still unsure of what was acceptable.

I heard the click of her heels on the wooden floor as she approached, unable to look up to see her.

"You will also never look directly at Mistress. You will keep your eyes averted unless told to do otherwise. You are not worthy of looking Mistress in the eye. Is that understood slave?" she continued to give me orders.

"Yes Mistress."

I spoke a little clearer now, the word become more natural for me to utter.

"Good, slave," she spoke, as I heard her steps move behind me.

Then I felt her hands on my shoulders. Surprisingly gentle hands from one who looked so strong and powerful a moment ago. Her hands moved up my neck and brushed through my hair; so sensual and sensitive. My body began to tingle at her touch. Then as quickly as she began, she pulled her hands away.

Within seconds a ball gag was pushed into my mouth. I opened my mouth wide to accommodate the rubber sphere as to please the one behind me. Hoping that if I pleased her, I could again feel the touch of those soft and sensitive hands. I felt the rope tighten behind my head, forcing my mouth open in a slightly painful way.

I would learn that pain was to be a regular part of my experiences. Pain and servitude. The next words I heard from my Mistress were, "Strip, slave!"

Eager to obey my Mistress and fearful of disobeying, I began to remove my clothing as quickly as possible. I removed my shoes and laid them aside, but as I pulled my shirt off and dropped it, I felt a hard and painful whack across my back.

"Slaves do not just drop things on the floor of my home."

A second whack.

"Fold your clothes neatly and lay them on the chair."

A sharp pain spread though my back muscles.

I realized that Mistress was very skilled at using a cane on her slaves.

Unable to speak, I nodded my head in reply and bent over to pick up the shirt. As I bend, I felt Mistress' hand rub across my buttocks, firmly and affectionately. Discipline followed by affection. Causing me to feel more and more drawn to the desire to obey out of devotion rather than fear.

I removed my pants and folded them properly and laid them on top of my shirt. I then pulled my shorts down, my member stiff from the erotic sensations I have been feeling. I am a bit ashamed knowing that Mistress can see it and that I am so uncovered and vulnerable in front of her.

Stepping out of my shorts, I also folded them and laid them aside my other clothes, removing my socks as well to complete my disrobing. Mistress has not said a word since she struck me. I have received no further instructions, so I returned to the spot where I was standing when she first commanded me to disrobe.

I awkwardly put my hands in front of me, trying to hide my erection. Why? I do not know. I understood I was just a slave to be at Mistress' command, but somehow standing there naked made me feel as if I was embarrassing her with my nudity and the fact I could not control my body.

Staring downward, I heard Mistress walk around me, circling me. Her heels clicking the floor. The noise stopped. I sensed Mistress was standing in front of me. She put her hands on mine and pulled them apart; removing what little self pride I had remaining.

She whispered in my ear, "Don't be embarrassed that you cannot control it. You are a slave, you cannot help yourself."

Then suddenly without warning I saw a flash of movement and felt a very painful sting right across the top of my penis. Mistress struck down my hardness with her cane. Suddenly I did not feel sexually aroused. Quickly my erection began to go limp.

"See," she said, as my penis began to soften. "Mistress can control what you cannot."

She was correct. The pain definitely had an effect on my erection. Thinking of being struck again, my mind concentrated on the pain I felt so as not to become hard again and receive another strike.

However, just as before, Mistress follows correction with affection. She took my softening penis in her hand to gently stroke it, making it immediately hard again. She bent over and blew softly across the red stripe on my hardening flesh. The brush of air felt more erotic than any touch I had ever felt.

"Soft or hard," she said. "Is mine to determine."

Without speaking, She took my hand in hers and led me toward a wall across the room.

As we drew closer, I noticed chains hanging from the wall. Attached to the end of each chain was a leather cuff shackle. Mistress firmly, yet gently attached the cuffs to my wrists and then ankles. My back was to the cold hard wall, legs and arms spread wide. Very little allowance for movement. Completely vulnerable. Completely enslaved.

Once shackled, she removed the ball gag and gave me a drink of cool water before replacing it.

She then whispered, "I will be back, slave. Don't run off."

As she turned to go, she laid the keys to the shackles on a table within a few feet of me, but well outside my reach. The vision of them laying there makes me feel even more helpless and controlled. As her footsteps fade, I dared to glance up to catch a glimpse of Mistress as she walked away.

From the back I can finally see her beautiful long black hair, tied in a ponytail, but still reaching well past her shoulders. Though my body still felt the stings from her blows, this slave smiled inwardly at being accepted by so wonderful a Mistress. And he can only think of what pleasure she will bring him when she returns.

To be continued...