The Lovers: A new Fern for my garden of delights… (part 5)

Paulo dropped to his knees, scuttling to the grate, his unmentionables flapping behind him as he bent and tried to pull it open with his nimble fingers. Alas, it was screwed down tight. Fern, in her predictably amenable way told him not to worry about it, that she could wait. Paulo then demanded a screwdriver. I reminded him that a lock needed a key, not a screwdriver, the silly boy.

“No Mistress! For the grate! For the grate!” he said, once again clutching his member with such focused frustration, one might almost think he was willing it to turn into an actual tool.

“There’s no point trying to retrieve it from the vent, dear.” I said, shaking my head, “It’s too narrow. Even if you squeezed and pried, there’s no way you could get in, and you certainly wont get any satisfaction from trying.”

Paulo shot me a sideways glance.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry. I forgot. How insensitive of me.”

Fern was laughing. It was an awkward situation, she agreed, but she could make do. I nodded, motioning to the wire on her behind, she could still toilet, She’d just have to clean vigorously. Or have Paulo attend to that.

Poor fellow. All crestfallen and redundant. He was smiling that sad smile I must have seen a hundred times before when I’ve done something unspeakable to his poetry. His penis fell from his grasp. What was the point?

As I sent them off to get dressed, I reminded Paulo that there were other ways to pleasure a woman without simply diving for the obvious. Perhaps he might discover some? I encouraged Fern that this would build her desire for her brooding lover even more.

“It’s ok. Please don’t make a fuss, Mistress. I’m not super disappointed.” She smiled, then awkwardly clamping her hands over her mouth and looking at Paulo, who by now was practically a puddle of despondancy. “Oh sorry Paulo… you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

I watched them shuffle out of my front door, hand in hand, like lovers exiled from paradise. To make a new life for themselves in the desert of Fern’s forbidding terrain. Closing the door, I placed the chastity belt’s key in the vase. Safely stowed for when I chose to end the joke. Or when the joke had gone a little too far.

The Making of a Mistress 15. The Devil

In the latest “Making of a Mistress” (15. Temperance), Katia takes the reigns with Johnathon,  squashing his impudence. With Valleri’s trip away, the boundaries begin to blur between Katia and her charge.

On and on she went like this until at last she’d tire and lay back, instructing him to watch. He was bound, after all, and could go nowhere. Then she’d open her thighs and tap them – a signal for me to crawl over and attend to her. She mewed in pleasure as I did, though her increasing arousal seemed to awake even greater vitriol in her, which she then spat at Johnathon.

“Even your tongue isn’t any use to me.” she’d moan, locking eyes with him, then pulling my head deeper into her, until she was all of my senses, and my head sailed in waves of her pleasure. I allowed myself to be Valleri’s tool against Johnathon, though initially I felt guilty at being purposed thus. I sensed Johnathon’s humiliation, and couldn’t help but have an empathy for him, even though he’d never shown me any great affection. This empathy would from time to time distract me from my Mistress’ need, and from my own pleasure in serving her. Then, with a hard yank on the end of my ponytail, Valleri would bring me  back into the word of flesh rather than mind. When satisfied, she instructed me to kiss Johnathon on the lips, when my own were heavy with the scent of her. A peck wasn’t enough. I was required to kiss him fully. His lips felt strange against mine,the first time. Cool and rough with stubble, unlike the fleshy warmth of Valleri’s own. His breath was cool and moist, like the cavities below the earth. Under Valleri’s goading, I dove my tongue between his unresisting lips, eyes closed, feeling him taste her on me. Feeling my tongue vibrate on the sounds of his lustful exaltations.”

The Lovers: A new Fern for my garden of delights… (part 4)

Love is a beautiful thing, but done right, it can also be painful. To observe the two naked lovers in my dark oak hallway of mirrors and paintings, beside the mock orange tree, was reminiscent of some renaissance portrait of the first humans in the garden of Eden. Fern reached out a hand to touch Paulo’s – now somewhat more inflated – cock, fingering it approvingly.

Paulo’s eyes met mine as I stepped out of the doorway.

“Fern looks quite beautiful, doesn’t she Paulo?”

Paulo started to laugh in the hysterical manner men do when they are trying to hold back a herd of fury.

“Mistress, this is very funny. I see the irony, but please – tell me. There’s a key, right?”

“Why of course, there’s a key. Every lock has one. What is your point?”

He motioned to the lock fastening his fair Fern’s virtue. Fern waggled her hips at him, giggling. Presumably she was enjoying this as much as I was. It is always the nice girls…

“Oh.” I tittered, “That. Why yes of course.”

I reached in my pocket for something fit for the purpose. I found it. A silver dime, around the same shape and size as the key. Only a glint of it between the tight grasp of my fingers. Paulo was practically bouncing on the spot now. I crouched down in front of Fern, meeting her eye to wink at her, taking my time.

Then accidentally dropped the dime through the grate of the air vent, where it rolled and disappeared into a soft descent into what presumably terminates as decades of dryer lint sediment.

“Whoopsie daisy…” I sighed. “Silly me.”

“There’s a spare? Surely there’s a spare, Mistress?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“How about your other keys?”

I explained to him that wouldn’t work. I had – after all – ordered this belt from a Chinese Wholesale site, and you know my escapades with them. There was nothing for it, I declared. I’d have to order another from the vendor. On the bright side, I smiled, it shouldn’t take more than two to three weeks to arrive.

The Making of a Mistress 14 – Temperance

In the latest “Making of a Mistress” (14. Temperance), Katia begins her training under Valleri. The Dungeon is explored, Katia goes head to head with her insecurities and Valleri’s whip – and Johnathon may be convinced to play…

“Temperance. A balancing of variables in order to work towards a goal. Of course, in my case, with Valleri, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was working towards. For the first time in my life, I was doing something entirely irrational – even, perhaps irresponsible. My decisions these past few months were based entirely on feeling, rather than anything solid. But how these feelings called to me. How could I do anything but follow?

Mother didn’t approve of my breakup with Calvin, and let me know about it until I was forced to set her ringtone to silent and replace her picture on my phone with one of a six headed dragon. It seemed fitting. But I had to remember, I wasn’t entirely alone in this process. Valleri was guiding me, and even though I didn’t know quite where, it hardly seemed to matter. I trusted her, and my feelings for her, implicitly.

The rules to this new arrangement with Valleri were fairly straightforward. I would still work, and I would pay a portion of my earnings to the household for accommodation and food costs while I resided here. The rest, she told me, I could keep. Outside of work hours, I would perform domestic duties as assigned. I was also to be abstinent from both alcohol, and – oddly – self pleasure. The latter seemed a little unusual, but when one is facing impending homelessness, it pays not to be too choosy.

For the first few days after I moved in, the arrangement was almost too simple. A little cleaning here, Valleri seizing me once or twice for her pleasure there. It seemed like nothing had changed, that it had become better, because at least now, I was where I wanted to be. Of course, I still carried guilt about Calvin’s departure, and this would come to me at night, when I was alone and sober, with no alcohol to dilute the emotions with. But by day, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. A joyful curiosity for my new place under Valleri’s tutelage. An excitement…”


The Making of a Mistress 13 – Death

In the latest “Making of a Mistress” (13. Death), Katia “enjoys” Christmas dinner with Valleri and a very distracted Johnathon. Valleri finds new ways to break the ice on an after dinner walk with Katia.

Valleri enfolded me in a long black fur jacket. It smelt of her. I wrapped myself up to the chin in it, surreptitiously sniffing for her as she got herself ready. Then I followed her out into a quiet night. A few inches of snow had settled. The streets were mostly silent. It was about eleven.

We left two pairs of footsteps behind us as we crunched together over virgin snow to the local park, where we’d met on the Solstice. With the slight saltiness of the snow on my tongue, I recalled her own salt-water in my mouth. And just the thought of it lurched my lust to life, despite my prior malaise and nervousness. As I walked with her to the lightning-struck tree, I felt my body prickle against the frisson of her energy and mine mixing. I could almost feel the curious tendrils of her own curiosity penetrating me, skin, sinew and bone.”

The Making of a Mistress 12 – The Hanged Man

In the latest “Making of a Mistress” (12. The Hanged Man), wet again at Valleri’s hands – Katia visits Valleri and Johnathon on Christmas Day. Johnathon isn’t impressed with Valleri’s Christmas gift to Katia.

Once again I found myself in Valleri’s shower, this time enjoying a torrent of frigid water from the showerhead. It rained down on my skin like a hail of needles. Valleri wasn’t being deliberately cruel with the temperature. When Johnathon had picked me up from my drunken Christmas adventure in town, I’d been in quite the state. So, on arrival, Valleri had insisted on sobering me up. And while her method was valid, it was also a torment. I squirmed around between Valleri’s strong hands, which pawed and kneaded my skin as if with dough, prior to proofing.

The proof was in my arousal – the raised heartbeat, how I could only look on her with my open mouth and make insensible sounds. She laughed at me, holding me in place as she lathered the fragrant oil around my shoulders. Each stinging drop of ice cold water a trance percussion, building to a frenetic sense of devotion to her. Under the heat of her hands, bubbles formed, sliding over my body – each soft peak, each valley, like white horses, made of lust, inciting me to submission at her hands.

Valleri had expressed her dismay at the state I’d arrived in. Quite unecessary, she’d stated,  it cannot continue. As my face fell, the kindness seeped into her voice again. She commented with approval that I had been a good girl to remember to maintain myself in the other ways. Still dazed, I asked – what other ways? At this, she slid a hand approvingly between my thighs, over the bare skin. I felt the pulse of her blood hot hands against my frozen genitals as if it were moving through my own body. As if we were one. She pulled up then and I rose, to tiptoes, wanting her. Her gaze held mine, allowing nothing, her dark irises crackling with the intensity of control. As I leaned in to kiss her – for I couldn’t help it – she pulled away, taking her hand with her.. A refusal. Perhaps a punishment? I felt instantly ashamed. She sighed then, placing a hand to my cheek, her voice dark and deep like a siren on coastal rocks. Comforting and chastising me.”

The Lovers: A new Fern for my garden of delights… (part 3)

I felt Paulo flinch as I drew the paddle forward, just glancing his bottom. Kicking him to the floor, I paced around to his front pulling his head up by the hair, prying his mouth open with the paddle and bidding him bite on it. From my pocket, I drew the keys to his chastity device.

“But I am merciful, am I not?”


“Oh, for heaven’s sake don’t speak with your mouth full, Paulo.”

Paulo’s teeth loosened their grip on the instrument and it fell to the floor with a dull thud.

“YES Mistress!”

“Good boy. Now… you held up your end of the bargain, and so I shall hold up mine. I suppose you would like the cage off, wouldn’t you? You must be terribly compressed in there – all blue and purple and terribly cold. Poor Paulo.”

Paulo nodded sadly. The boy gave good face. Sometimes I’d wonder to myself if he’d be a better actor than a musician. I jammed my hand between his legs, fondling his sac roughly, his thighs clenching around my wrist, until key met padlock, and released him from his confinement with a soft click.

And speaking of soft… He pulled the cage away and placed a hand around his flaccid contribution tenderly, as one might to a wounded bird. Of course, I laughed at him.

“And so I imagine you have plans for this week? You and Felicity? Maybe make her a nice meal, then lay her down and make love to her like the man you sometimes pretend to be?”

“Oh yes, Mistress.”

“I bet you can almost feel yourself entering her beautiful garden of delights, so warm and soft and tight around you…”

.The poor man had been useless for two months now. Well one might suggest that he had always been useless, but I only meant in the regard of intercourse. Paulo’s eyes had that one hundred mile stare as he nodded, mouth agog in lustful hunger, as if prepared to eat a large banquet – alas he would remain hungry at least a little longer.

“My dear Paulo, would you be so kind as to show Fern in? She’s waiting outside in the hall for you.”

He looked down at his nakedness and saw that he was naked. He reached for the neatfly folded pile of clothes on the counter.

“NOW Paulo. Thank you.”

Paulo scuttled off into the hallway. I waited a few seconds to hear Fern’s greeting followed by his gasp of dismay as she stood to show him her new metal undergarments…

The Making of a Mistress 11 – Justice

In the latest “Making of a Mistress” (11. Justice),  Katia returns home to Calvin, who confronts her after her wild night out at Valleri’s…

“And faced with this knowledge, I was caused to question my own intentions. I had known where this potentially might go, and yet had continued. Perhaps in one sense I might excuse myself by saying that this came from nowhere – all those weeks, she taught me art, just art, so I thought that was all there was. But there had been that shower when she had shaved me. That kiss. Those little moments and touches that were anything but innocent. The hints and the little looks.

I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t want it too. That while she sat so close to me while I was drawing, that I didn’t want to lean in and kiss her. But I had left the boundaries for her to define, whilst also waggling myself provocatively over them, and in doing so, I had cheated. No one had made me cheat, I had gone there all by myself. If only I could have been under her skirt for longer, perhaps hid out there for years. But as soon as that episode ended, as soon as I washed myself clean under the shower, as soon as I bade her and her party goodbye in the park, I was bashed headlong into a wave of dissonance about walking back into my previously defined life.

And it was about to get worse.”

The Making of a Mistress 10: The Wheel of Fortune

In the latest “Making of a Mistress” (10. The Wheel of Fortune), Katia and Calvin approach their move to Slough. Valleri mentors Katia in art as their friendship blossoms. And wine is not the only thing Katia imbibes at Valleri’s Solstice party…

I couldn’t imagine a part of her I wouldn’t like. Let me taste all of you, I asked. Suddenly embarrassed at myself. She peeled off her garment and bade me lie down. The floor was hard –  cold, but my desire burned hot enough to negate any discomfort. I did as I was asked, then she crouched above me, enfolding me in a veil of skirts, heavy with the scent of her. She stroked my hair as she crouched above my face, and hungrily I dove forward to find more treasures there, feeling her buck against my face, clinging to her thighs so as not to lose her. This moment.

“All of me?” she gasped, crushing me into her. I gasped under her. Yes, yes – I said. She chuckled, as the tide changed – sweet milk to hot, salty fluid. I opened my mouth wider as she released a golden stream into it, It was salty, warm and yet still smelled of her. I was both disgusted with myself and deeply aroused. All I could do was keep my mouth open, until it stopped. Then she began to dance upon my lips more intensely. She was a wheel of blades, over my previous innocence. Tearing all asunder. I let her macerate against the lips that prior to this had only worked in service to the acceptable. Teeth and tongue, she now commanded, lips and moans she now possessed. I was roiling in lust, delight and hunger – completely her possession. When she came with a roar, she pressed her lips to mine in a kiss that stole my breath. I didn’t need it anyway, if this cost to her body’s pleasure at my own was so easily paid, I’d give it away ten times over.

Poem: “Darkness” by Khattab

Here is a beautiful submission by one of my followers this week:

“Darkness, it runs through me
It’s like walking through a graveyard of submission and dark seas
Darkness, something that we both love and hate
Something called a crazy mysterious path of darkness and light is like watching people mate”

— Khattab

I think embracing one’s “shadow” aspects is important. Out in the light, they are rarely as terrifying as they seemed before. I’m always happy to help hold the torch, as well as the whip, on your personal journeys with me… 🙂
Your Mistress,