First date with a male sub Part 2

First date with a male sub (part 2)
FemDom Mistress Morrigan

Femdom Mistress with leather whipI love that look they get in their eyes when they know they’ve messed up.  This one is new, so I’m not really all that surprised or disappointed.  He’s done well so far, but I can’t let him get away with being neglectful of his duties.  That’s a bad way to start out.  I stare into his eyes for a very long time, long enough to make him really start to worry.  Then I let go of his hair and stroke it gently back into place…just before I give his cheek a good slap.  Oh I don’t hurt him; I only slap him hard enough to give his cheek a good sting.  It will help him remember next time.

He waits, my handprint showing faintly red on his cheek.  He’s a good boy.  If he had dashed off to retrieve what he had forgotten without waiting for my permission I would have been quite cross.  But he waits and I lightly stroke the cheek I marked and nod toward the dresser.  He’s quick, I’ll give him that.  He’s there and back in a flash and he didn’t just reach in and grab the first thing he saw.  He picked exactly the right thing.  A red lace g-string that matches the color of my corset and heels.

Perching on the edge of the bed I lift first one foot and then the other and let him slide the g-string up my legs as far as he can reach while I am sitting.  When I stand abruptly I am so close to him that I can feel his startled breath on the bare skin of my midriff.  He barely hesitates before sliding the garment the rest of the way up, reaching under my skirt to settle the straps into place on my hips.  He doesn’t even try to let his hands linger.  Such a good boy.

Male sub ready to serve his mistressTime is wasting and we have a gathering to attend.  I do hate to be late.  I allow him to help me into my corset and give myself a final once over in the mirror.  There she is, the persona the world at large isn’t allowed to see.  They may sense her, may hear her in my voice, but most aren’t worthy of making her acquaintance.  I turn to look at my plaything for the evening and I am pleased with what I see.  He’s back in position, kneeling with his hands on his thighs and his eyes on the floor.  It’s taken him a while to prove himself, but I decided he was worthy of the chance.

He’s not wearing a shirt, only the jeans I instructed him to get; a pair that are skin tight and show clearly he wears nothing beneath.  It also shows that our time together so far has already had an impact on him.  Poor boy, it must be very uncomfortable to be so hard and be wearing such tight jeans.  It’s not really his fault though, how is he supposed to control something like that on his own.  That’s why he’s come to me.  I’m going to help him learn, not to control himself…but to surrender to the control of another:  My control.

To be continued…

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