Bryanne’s Fantasies-999

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Bryanne’s Fantasies

As Chris looked through the window of the guest house toward the balcony
of the main house, he was overcome with emotion. Standing out on the
balcony in all her divine glory was his Goddess Bryanne. She was a vision
of sheer unadulterated perfection. Her plush, perfect breasts were
glistening majestically as she stood topless in her signature blue latex
skater skirt with her long, touchably-soft hair flowing in the soft
morning breeze. It was clear from the fact that he could observe his
former student, house-girl and now fellow slave, Mallory, eagerly licking
under that heavenly skirt that their Goddess had chosen to remain bare
under it. Mallory appeared to be in a feverish, trace-like state licking
with a rhythm that was part lust, part reverence. In any case, for Chris
it was an incredibly arousing sight. It was hard to believe that it had
only been two months since Goddess Bryanne had entered his life and
changed it forever. So much had changed in that time, she had become
everything to him and he had become her mind fucked, submissive toy.

Mallory had been in one of the undergraduate mathematics classes that
Chris taught last semester. She was a beautiful 19-year old blonde who
dressed fairly conservatively but clearly had a fantastic ex-gymnast body,
pert breasts, an immaculate ass, rock-hard athletic arms and legs,
luscious lips, a gorgeous look, an intelligent mind, a winning
personality, who came from a hardworking middle-class family. She had been
the first student to respond to an ad he had posted for a house-girl –
someone who was more than a maid but less than a live-in resident. She did
household chores and prepared meals for him and in return she received a
generous stipend, as well as access to the guest house to study and
occasionally stay over when she wanted to be closer to the school or get
away from her partying roommates. Best of all, she didn’t seem to have
much of an interest in dating but was excellent in, and did seem to
genuinely enjoy, the role of pseudo-homemaker.

Two months earlier, Mallory had just finished her chores for the day when
she approached Chris with a question, “Professor, since you don’t really
use the guest house or many of the rooms in the main house for that
matter, I was wondering if you would be interested in renting out the
guest house to me and one of my new friends Bryanne. I really want to get
away from my partying roommates and would like to live closer to campus.
Bryanne is new to the area and we could really use the savings on rent
from a larger place and it would be so helpful to live closer to the
University, too.” He told her that he would have to think about it and
that he would need to meet Bryanne first before he could approve it, but
it did sound like a good idea. He liked the idea of having Mallory around
more as the big house seemed quite empty when she wasn’t working. She said
that Bryanne was going to pick her up from work tomorrow and asked if it
would be possible for him to meet her then. He agreed. Mallory smiled and
left. He went back to grading quizzes.

He’d never forget the first time he saw Bryanne. She was walking up the
driveway after exiting her car. She was clearly not a student. She carried
herself with a professional and confident presence that was equal parts
impressive and intimidating. Her hair looked so soft and softly flowed as
she walked. She was dressed in a shiny, skin-tight pair of latex pants
that showed off an ass that was quite simply immaculate and spectacular.
Furthermore, she wore a leather jacket that was unbuttoned just enough to
show a latex bustier underneath that would have bordered on the obscene if
it weren’t so glorious. Hidden under the leather jacket, albeit slightly
hidden, was the most fantastic pair of tits that Chris had ever laid his
eyes on. Her cleavage was so glorious he could feel the blood run to his
cock as he tried to soak it all in. Furthermore, she had an absolute glow
to her. She made every part of his mind feel weak and excited. It was a
religious experience.

“Professor, I am Bryanne, Mallory’s dominant friend and I soon hope
roommate. It is nice to meet you. I have heard a lot about you.”

“Thank you. Nice to meet you, too, Bryanne,” Chris said, as the word
dominant conveniently did not register at the time.

He invited Bryanne and Mallory into the guest house to talk. Mallory was
quiet but Bryanne spoke up, “I’d love to see the main house if you don’t
mind. I’ve heard it is beautiful.”

“Sure, OK,” Chris said basking in the fact that the two beautiful women
wanted to live in his guest house.

He brought them inside and led them to the kitchen where they were going
to talk. “I sure would love a tour of the house. Mallory why don’t you go
shower and change into the clothes I brought you while the Professor and I
go on a tour,” Bryanne commanded.

“Yes, Goddess,” Mallory sheepishly replied and departed.

Chris started the tour with the living room but Bryanne was not
interested. “I’d like to see the living quarters, the bedrooms upstairs,”
she instructed.

“OK, follow me,” Chris started to say.

“That’s OK, Mallory has told me the layout. I can lead,” Bryanne stated

As they headed up the stairs, he could not get his eyes off of Bryanne’s
ass, as it was hugged by the amazing latex pants. Each time her cheeks
wiggled, he felt a tingle in his trousers. He was just obviously
enraptured and basically entranced by it.

“We’re here, or you could just keep looking at my ass,” Bryanne scoffed.

“I, uh, yes, yes, we are. Sorry. I was daydreaming I guess,” He replied.

Bryanne entered the bedroom which adjoined the master bedroom. She scanned
the room, peeked into the attached bathroom, tested the softness of the
bed and looked out the window to see the view. She noticed the balcony on
the next room over. “Yes, yes. Very nice. Is this the master bedroom
through here?”, She inquired as she opened the door to his bedroom, the
master bedroom.

“Yes, it is. It is where I sleep,” Chris said rather sheepishly.

She went right over to the balcony doors and walked outside. “Glorious,
simply glorious – You can even see the guest house from here. How
convenient! It is beautiful isn’t it, it will be perfect for me, my pet,
don’t you think?”

Mallory, who Chris had not seen or heard entering the room replied, “Yes,
Goddess. I told you that you would love it.”

Chris almost fell over from surprise as he saw Mallory dressed in a latex
French maid outfit. Her hair tightly fashioned in a bun and her ample, as
he had always suspected, cleavage nearly bursting forth. She was wearing
knee high latex boots, as well.

“What is the meaning of all this?” he nearly yelled. “Why are you dressed
like that Mallory? What do you mean that it will be perfect for you,
Bryanne? I haven’t even decided if I am going to rent the guest house to
you two.”

“The decision has been made for you already. Mallory has been telling me
about how lonely and submissive you are. She also said that she saw some
submissive, latex and shiny asses webpages up on your computer one day
when she was cleaning. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that to get out around
the campus. Mr. Big Department Head is a submissive with a lot of
fetishes. Furthermore, I’ve seen the way you have been looking at me since
I got here. Come here and look at my perfect ass. I know you want to kiss
it and touch it.”

Without thinking Chris immediately went over to Bryanne, as if hypnotized
by her ass. He started massaging it and then kissed it. He was lost in its

Click. Click.

He snapped to, as Mallory was taking pictures of him worshipping Bryanne’s

“Come here, Mallory, my pet,” Bryanne commanded. “Now, she’s been cooking
and cleaning for you, the least you can do is kiss and lick those shiny
latex boots of hers.

He eagerly obliged.

Click. Click. This time it was Bryanne taking the pictures.

“I realize that I don’t really need these pictures, as soon you’ll be
doing whatever I desire and my slave girl, too for that matter. From now
on you will address me as Goddess Bryanne. You will pack up your
belongings from your bedroom and move into the guest house this evening. I
will be moving into the master bedroom and Mallory, my slave, will be
living in the adjoining room. We will let you keep up the façade that it
is your house that you are living in, if you have any guests, but you will
be the guest from now on. You, of course, will be paying us rent to stay
in our guest house and you will still pay Mallory to be my house-girl. If
you are good, we’ll let you worship and serve us, as well. Is that
understood, slave?”

“Yes, Goddess,” Chris meekly replied.

“Very good. Now, go and get packing. Mallory and I need to test out the
bed in her new bedroom.”

That is the story of how Chris became the guest in his own house. With a
Goddess like Bryanne and an amazing fellow slave like Mallory, his life
has never been better.
A crowded lecture hall was filled to the rafters with eager young female
undergraduate students. They were anticipating the arrival of one of
Taylor Institute of Technology and Sciences (T.I.T.S.) most beloved
administrators. Not only was Dr. Bryanne, a stunningly beautiful woman who
previously had an extremely successful and widely admired career in the
private sector before coming to T.I.T.S. but SHE was the woman who
single handedly had saved the school’s Agriscience Department. Before her
arrival, the Department was on life support, struggling for funding and
desperately in need of an infusion of new technology and creative
thinking. Now, after just three years as the Department Head, Agrisciences
is the school’s most successful department bringing in millions of dollars
in revenue through its revolutionary dairy product, T.I.T.S. Milk.

Prior to joining T.I.T.S., Dr. Bryanne was a researcher at a world-class
pharmaceutical company working on top secret drugs rumored to be related
to mind-control, and body-health reshaping or “mind fucking and body
morphing” as SHE liked to jokingly refer to it. It was all hush-hush stuff
with massive government funding and most believed it was nothing but
propaganda created to scare other nations that might get an idea about
committing any type of espionage or military aggression. More importantly,
Dr. Bryanne was a hero to women throughout the country, for SHE was as
stunningly beautiful as SHE was successful as businesswoman and scientist.
Men and women wanted to be with HER and women wanted to be HER. Today, as
SHE enters the lecture hall, SHE strides in triumphantly wearing HER
trademark blue latex skater skirt, with a beautiful white silk shirt
tantalizingly unbuttoned to reveal the most spectacular cleavage in
academia. Today, the new school year is about to begin and SHE is set to
address the candidates who have applied to be part of the T.I.T.S. Dairy

Before becoming bored with the pharmaceutical industry, Dr. Bryanne
believed that SHE had independently developed an amazing chemical, which
SHE referred to as “bryannol” which if it were added to a perfectly
compatible food product it would increase that product’s inherent
nutritional value exponentially. If SHE was right, the product mixed with
bryannol would have blockbuster sales. After some further analysis, SHE
had become convinced that cow’s milk would be the ideally compatible
product. However, SHE needed a place to test HER theory. SHE decided that
an academic environment without corporate or government interference was
just what SHE needed. After a series of interviews with a variety of
academic institutions, SHE decided that T.I.T.S. with its struggling
Agrisciences Department would be the ideal location. As SHE anticipated,
the school’s Board of Trustees were so giddy with delight at HER
acceptance of their job offer they agreed to provide HER with the
facilities and autonomy to conduct HER research. Furthermore, SHE knew
that HER beauty and power over young women that idolized HER, would enable
HER to recruit some of the best female minds in the country to the
program. SHE would target exactly the type of students that SHE felt were
best for HER at this point in HER research.

During HER first year at the school, Dr. Bryanne created T.I.T.S. Dairy, a
fully-operational, on-campus dairy and dairy research facility, which SHE
would oversee and which would be completely staffed by the school’s female
students. SHE had hundreds of brilliant and eager applicants apply for
jobs with the dairy. SHE was careful to select brilliant female students
that also tended to have a submissive and/or loner side to their behavior.
SHE wanted to use HER beauty, intelligence and power over them to make
them completely committed to HER objectives and will. As compensation for
the recruits, SHE was able to provide a generous stipend, college credit,
the ability to work side-by-side with HER and all the milk they wanted
during the research process. SHE encouraged the recruits to drink the milk
as often as they could and SHE would monitor the impact that it had on
them. After about a month, Dr. Bryanne was able to see quantifiable
nutritional benefits for all the female recruits. However, they stated
that the cow’s milk with bryannol did not taste as good as regular milk to
them and they were having trouble continuing to drink the amounts that SHE
had recommended. Furthermore, Dr. Bryanne started to notice a few other
side effects of the consumption of the cow’s milk with bryannol:
1. The recruits’ self-confidence was improving when interacting with each
other and students outside of the dairy.
2. The recruits were becoming more and more susceptible to the whims and
instructions of Dr. Bryanne.
3. The recruits’ breast sizes were increasing significantly.
4. The recruits were reporting that they were having fantasies about
themselves and other women and their libidos were increasing as well.
5. The recruits were starting to lactate – and that lactation was
increasing in frequency and volume, the longer they drank the milk.
Dr. Bryanne realized that while some of the unexpected side effects were
beneficial to HER personally, the breast growth and lactation issues were
non-starters. Try as SHE might, SHE just could not overcome those issues.
Finally, one day, SHE got a break. One of the recruits, Alexa, starting
lactating profusely in the lab and it accidentally splashed on another
recruits face. Without thinking the second student, Stacey, licked the
breast milk off HER face.

“OMG!”, Stacey shouted, “That is the tastiest milk ever. Can I please have
some more, Alexa?”

Alexa was embarrassed and confused and did not know what to say or do.

Dr. Bryanne, who was working nearby came over to investigate the
commotion, “What is going on over here girls?”
Alexa with a pained look on her face said, “Dr. Bryanne, I, uh,
accidentally spilled myself, uh, my breast milk on Stacey and she tasted
it and now wants some more of it. I don’t know what to do.”

“OMG! It was the best thing I have ever tasted please may I have more of
it?”, Stacey said as if she were begging for it.

“Alexa, you still seem to be dripping, why don’t you try it yourself and
see. Stacy, you are dripping now, too. Why don’t you be a good girl and
try your own.” Dr. Bryanne commanded.

Both girls did as they were told and yelled out “OMG!” in unison. Dr.
Bryanne started to smile. Perhaps SHE had been considering the wrong type
of milk to mix with bryannol.

…the story continues…

Dr. Bryanne decided to break the female recruits working at T.I.T.S. Dairy
into three groups:

Group 1 – “The Producers” would consist of the recruits who had the least
number of friends and family. They would be given a full-time 24/7
internship effective immediately. They would be fed a steady diet of cow
milk with even higher doses of bryannol. Their breasts would be pumped for
milk that additional research could be performed on.

Group 2 – “The Testers” which included Alexa and Stacey and a group of new
recruits that were specifically chosen for their breast size and desire to
fit in on campus. They would be given a diet which included Group 1’s
breast milk with a moderate dose of bryannol added.

Group 3 – “The Researchers & Managers” would work with HER to identify the
impact the product had on the other two groups. They would eventually help
manage the dairy when production began. The group would consist of the
brightest female recruits who also were the most submissive and had the
biggest crushes on Dr. Bryanne. SHE would reward them with HER attention
and affection.

The results were a runaway success. Group 1 produced nearly obscene
amounts of breast milk and were milked continuously. Group 2 had all the
positives and none of the early negative side effects. Their bodies
morphed to a perfect shape, their breasts grew to a perfect size after a
month of drinking the milk and then never changed, they did not lactate,
they produced a pheromone that made them like sirens to men and women
alike and the product became addictive (in a positive way) and made them
extremely loyal and unquestioning to Dr. Bryanne. After a few months, the
Testers would move into a forth group, the Marketers who would promote the
amazing features and effects of the product and would help recruit new
candidates for each of the other three groups. T.I.T.S. Milk was born. It
was an immediate hit on campus with the product selling out daily. Women
positively glowed after drinking it and their breasts all looked
spectacular. Men loved it too, and what was that rumor about increased
penis size and semen production in men who drank T.I.T.S. Milk?

T.I.T.S. Dairy would soon become an amazing success. In the subsequent
time that has passed, T.I.T.S. Milk is produced and sold nationwide in a
network of T.I.T.S. Dairies operated by Dr. Bryanne and T.I.T.S. alumnae.
The product is flying off the shelves. The school’s revenues and student
admissions have never been better. Dr. Bryanne with that royalty clause in
HER contract with the school is a multi-millionaire and each new school
year Dr. Bryanne addresses the students during orientation, as SHE is
today, looking for new staff for T.I.T.S. Dairies. As SHE makes, HER
entrance to the room, SHE is met by a new student.

“Dr. Bryanne, my name is Amanda and I am a huge fan of YOURS. My boyfriend
started drinking T.I.T.S. Milk last year and his cum is so thick and tasty
now. It is amazing.”

“Hmmm,” Dr. Bryanne replied,”I have been looking for a healthy product for
the holiday season, T.I.T.S. nut-based Nog sounds good. Perhaps I’ll need
to round up male students after all. Amanda, there is a place at T.I.T.S.
Dairy for someone like you. Oh, and why don’t you call your boyfriend and
invite him in to meet with ME tomorrow.”

It’s going to be another great year for the beautiful Dr. Bryanne and the
Agrisciences Department at Taylor Institute of Technology and Sciences
will never need to worry about funding again.
Bryanne or Mistress B., as SHE is more commonly known globally as the
founder and CEO of the immensely successful, Mistress B. Enterprises, an
ever-growing global conglomerate consisting of businesses as diverse as
fitness clubs/spas, sportswear, health food, luggage, phone sex and even
escort-based services for high-end clients. The athletic goddess with
touch-ably soft perfectly coiffed hair looks spectacular in a skin tight
latex pencil dress. SHE is the living embodiment of how beautiful a
powerful, intelligent woman can be. SHE is back where it all started, the
first Mistress B. Fitness Club in a college town in the US’s Pacific
Northwest. Mistress B. Enterprises now has over 2,000 worldwide Mistress
B. Fitness Club and Spas but this location remains close to HER heart.
Mistress B. is positively radiant this morning as SHE prepares for a key
business meeting to discuss the possible acquisition of a group of small
Caribbean islands that SHE wants to make into a unique line of BDSM and
latex resorts as vacation locations for powerful and beautiful women much
like the one discussed in the book and movie “Exit to Eden”. How did this
amazing athletic beauty become such a titan of industry YOU ask?

It all started rather innocently one Tuesday afternoon as Mistress B.
prepared for the 6AM all-female spin class at the small gym SHE had
recently opened. Classes usually consisted of group of young college
students trying to fight off the freshman fifteen and a group of Type A
businesswomen looking to keep their bodies as sharp as their minds. SHE
entered the room wearing HER usual outfit of a skin-tight pair of yoga
pants (so tight that they didn’t even afford the opportunity to wear an
underwear underneath) and an equally tight and uplifting Lycra sports bra,
which gave the class attendees an eyeful of HER spectacular, ample
cleavage. The room was more full than usual and the attendees were dressed
in a more conservative form of their instructor’s attire. When the
attendees saw their instructor, many of them put down their cup of
overpriced coffee and got into position on their stationary spinning

The first ten minutes of the class were rather uneventful. As the class
feverishly tried to mimic the tempo of their more athletic instructor’s
pace, their breasts and asses wiggled and bounced in an almost symphonic
rhythm. It truly was an intoxicating combination of athletic passion and
sensual beauty. Suddenly, Bryanne felt HER sports bra strap start to snap,
HER breasts started to burst forth from the bra and without a moment’s
hesitation, SHE removed the bra completely and kept on peddling.
Instantly, SHE noticed that everyone in the class was mesmerized by the
unimaginable beauty that lay before their eyes. They continued to peddle
in an almost hypnotic state with their eyes glued to Mistress B.’s plushly
perfect breasts. They were complete intoxicated and in awe of every inch
of the Mistresses breasts HER amazingly shaped aureolas, HER rock hard
nipples and the amazing pertness of the breasts as they bounced
up-and-down to the rhythm of the peddling.

Not sure what was going on, Mistress B. asked the class, “Is everyone OK?”.

The class responded in unison, “Yes, Mistress B.”.

Finally, one attendee worked up the courage to sputter out, “Y-y-y-our
b-b-breasts are so perfect. I’d do anything for them, Mistress B.”.

The class agreed almost robotically, “Yes, anything for Mistress B.’s

“Anything hmmm…how about you all remove your sports bras? Would YOU like
to do that for Mistress B.?”

“Yes, Mistress B.”, the class replied as they all removed their sports
bras while feverishly trying to mimic the spinning tempo of their

Mistress B. was intrigued at the prospects. As the class wound down, SHE
told the class, “Make sure to tell all your female friends to join the
gym. Mistress B. and HER breasts would like that. Furthermore, YOU will do
whatever I say from now on and will not question it. Is that understood?“.

“Yes, Mistress B.”, the class eagerly complied.

As the class came to an end, SHE asked the two most athletic and beautiful
college students to stay behind, as well as a gorgeous business women who
SHE knew was a principal partner in a venture capital company to stay
behind after class. When the rest of the class left, SHE walked up to the
three as they continued to be mesmerized by the sheer perfection of HER
breasts. SHE said, “YOU will be addicted not only to my breasts but to all
of me. I am and will always be the most perfect and beautiful woman in the
world to you. You will obey me without question. You will each work for me
and be my lovers. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress B.”, they replied.

“Good. You two will stay in school. You will adjust your schedules so you
can work in the gym as instructors. You will help recruit your classmates
to attend classes and support my gym. I will be posting my classes online
on a pay site, you will help me set that up. And you, you will keep your
current job and use it to help get me funding to grow my business. You
will do everything you can to please me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress B.”, the answered.

“Good now let’s go join the other girls in the shower. I know you all want
to see me soap up my perfect breasts.”

And so it had begun, a young fitness entrepreneur who was just learning
the power of HER breasts, it marked the birth of an empire.
You love it when I get so involved in a new lover that I ignore the fact
that you are in the room. I know you feel so thrilled to have the honor of
watching me explore my sexuality with someone new. I am always so wet and
excited by the situation; that the room just fills with the scent of my
arousal. By the end of the night with a new bull our bedroom is permeated
with the intoxicating aroma of my betrayal.

The nature of your devious cuckoldry is very loving, but sadistic. One
time I found it amusing to blindfold you half way through a session.
Although, you couldn’t object due to being bound to a chair that faced the
bed, you felt that the strong trusting that we had always nurtured was
still well guarded.

Once the blindfold was on; all you could focus on was the noise of my
sexual ecstasy as my well-endowed lover took me to new orgasmic levels.
Soon your senses drifted away from the ever present sounds and focused on
the wonderful aromas of our exploits. Each scent was unique, wonderful and
produced a deepening sense of jealousy and humiliation in you.

The whole night flew by as though the hours he and I were exploring each
others bodies were just mere minutes. The sounds of skin on skin,
explosive pleasure, eventually tapered off and were replaced by the sound
of exhausted panting. Our breathing evened out, becoming deep and content
and you knew I had fallen asleep on our bed, with my lover, leaving you
blindfolded and bound to the chair. You stayed awake and alert all night.
Tortured by the idea of the woman you love so completely full of another
man’s cum and resting peacefully in his arms. You desired nothing more in
that moment than to reclaim me. Try to prove your worth as a man, even
though you knew you would fail.

In the morning, you were brought out of your reverie by the sound of
bodies stirring, soft waking moans, and the tell tale wet sucking noises
of a mouth on a cock. You groaned inwardly, knowing I was taking my lover
into my mouth, and soon you were rewarded by his groans too. After a short
while you felt a hand graze against your bound arm, beginning to loosen
the knots. The soft touch of my lips were then felt upon yours; as we
embraced one another with our mouths you noticed the faint taste of my
pussy juices from the shaft of his thick cock, along with the obvious and
surprising taste of his cum as well. The very flavor brought forth a
sudden feeling of humiliation, as I never would dare swallow one of your
loads. My lips pulled away from yours, you found your arms free, and I
spoke softly with an initial giggle “I couldn’t help myself, I’m sorry.
Now be a good boy and go make us breakfast”.
Every time you see me heading to the bathroom, your heart starts to race a
little faster and your pathetic little cock twitches and swells.

You were scrubbing the kitchen floor, but that task is quickly abandoned
as you catch the sound of movement from my office towards our bedroom. I
do not have to say a word or make a gesture. You are acutely aware of my
movements through our home at all times, at the ready to serve.
Particularly when I move towards the bathroom.

You try to keep your footing even and soft, not to make too much noise
(you know I hate that) as you follow like a hungry puppy, knowing his bowl
will soon be filled. When you reach the master bathroom you pause, just at
the door and you gaze at me, my back to you still, as I look in the
mirror, pulling my hair up into a loose bun. You think for a moment how
lucky you are. How loved you are. How amazing it is that you would do
anything at all to please this wonderful woman standing in front of you.

Our eyes meet in the mirror. You see a soft smile wrinkle the corners of
mine just before I turn to face you. No words are needed; you sink to your
knees and crawl towards me, the three feet separating us feels like a
million miles. You reach me and immediately bow your head to kiss my bare
feet. I am almost always barefoot in the house and it drives you wild. You
get so distracted seeing my perfect feet as you go about your chores.

You continue to worship at my feet, licking and kissing my toes, eagerly
waiting what has become a beautiful and intimate routine for us.

“I need to use my toilet.” I whisper.

You swallow hard, trying to contain the excitement raging through your
body. This is your favorite part of our day. You feel your balls growing
heavier as your worthless cock begins to stiffen even more.

“Yes, my Goddess” you say as you lift your face from my feet.

I can feel your hands tremble as they slowly slide up my ankles, calves
and then thighs. Some would think, without a direct order, this type of
touch from you would anger me. Are you taking liberties? No…this is the
unspoken ritual of our most intimate moments together. Your shaking hands
reach my hips, gliding over the lacy material of the hot pink panties I
have chosen to wear. Hooking your fingers in the waist band you slowly
slide them off my ass, and down my legs, your soft, generous mouth and
tongue instantly replacing where the damp crotch of my panties just were.

As you worship my pussy lips, you deftly don my wet panties. I gaze down
at the site of hot pink lace covering your straining cock and I let out a
delighted giggle. It always pleases me so to see you wearing my panties
when you are hard.

I savor the feel of your talented mouth on my sex for a few minutes more,
before pulling your head back and directing your gaze to mine. You
instantly notice my pursed lips and you open your mouth for a little amuse
bouche just as I let a stream of saliva escape. It hits the intended
target and before you can swallow it all, you feel the sting of my hand
against your cheek. Your face flushes red from the sting and the
humiliation. You let out a soft groan knowing it is time to take your
place as my toilet.

Putting your back to the toilet, you lean your head back so that your neck
is resting on the edge or the bowl. This is not a comfortable position,
but you do not even notice anymore. You are too excited, turned on, your
heart swelling and pounding with love and anticipation. I lift the hem of
short rode I am wearing and turn around, my feet planting on either side
of your body. I stand there; legs parted slightly, and give you a good
long teasing look. I stand there so long, in fact, that you start to
squirm. I watch in amusement as your legs wiggle on the cool tile floor,
your hands obediently at your sides, ball into fists, and the anticipation
is exquisite, almost more than you can bear. Your lips are parted, your
chest is heaving as your heart pounds. A tortured breath escapes your
mouth with a strangled imploring…


I smile, satisfied and lower myself down, sitting my beautiful pink pussy
right over your mouth…
The first day of a new spin class at Hera’s Gym for Women is always so
much fun for me. So many bright, fresh faces filled with excitement and
anticipation. Today is no different, as I stride into the locker room with
my skin tight yoga pants and shiny, smooth workout jacket on. I scan the
room as always to see who will be my pet project this year. Off in the
corner is a gaggle of young women giggling rather loudly in outfits meant
more to be seen than worn for spinning. Well, all but one woman that is.
You seem so out of place with the others. Nearly covered from head to toe
in clothes meant more for shoveling snow. They keep trying to pull you in
to their conversation but you seem distant, wrapped in your own little
world until you see me. You think you are being subtle as if glancing just
past me but I see your eyes fixed on my firm and immaculate yoga pants
clad ass. To test my hypothesis, I unzip my jacket to expose my plush
breasts which are bursting out of my tight, bright, lycra sports bra. I
see your eyes widen with amazement. I notice the moment that you snap to
and realize you’ve been staring just a bit too long, as you start to blush
in embarrassment and pretend to get involved in your friends’ chatter. Ah
yes, it has begun. You will be so much fun to break.

Spin class was a joy. I had instructed the class leader to leave the seat
in front of you open for me. I arrive just as class is about to begin. How
I love to make a grand entrance. My body looks so good in my workout
outfit, years of spin class will do that for you. I see you try to pretend
you’re not looking as I bend over right in front of you, showing you a
glimpse of my incredible breasts and spectacular cleavage. You sputter a
“H-h-h-ello,” as my breasts are mere inches from your face. I mount my
bike and make sure that you get a good view of just how firm my immaculate
ass really is. You are already sweating and we haven’t even begun.

After that first class ended, I watched as you waited for everyone else to
finish and leave before you headed for the showers. So, innocently shy.
So, adorable. While you were showering, I stopped by and chatted up your
friends. “What’s with your friend? A little overdressed for spin class
isn’t she?” They all giggle and willingly tell me how you had just broken
up with your boyfriend, your “high school” sweetheart and were feeling a
bit sad and lonely. They said they thought you two were more friends than
lovers and one giggled, “I always thought she liked girls like us more
than him.” This was going to be better than I thought. I headed back into
the locker room and slipped a note in your bag. I hid just out of sight as
you returned. I saw you pick it up, look around and then read what it said
– “Good girls aren’t afraid to think about other girls, when they pleasure
themselves.” I saw you almost shudder with delight as you put it back in
your bag and changed to head home.

That’s how things have continued each week over the past month of spin
class. Me, riding right in front of you and then leaving you notes and you
not even realizing what was happening to you. “Good girls don’t dress like
they are going out to shovel snow. Good girls wear tight pants and sports
bras to show off their curves.” The next week, there you were dressed in a
sexy, athletic outfit that showed you already were in great shape. “Good
girls aren’t too shy to shower in front of the other girls.” There you
were showering with the rest of us, your tight athletic body and hairy
bush for all to see. “Good girls shave themselves clean.” What do you know
but next week, your pussy was as smooth as your tight ass. “Good girls
aren’t too shy to talk to their spin classmates.” Finally, you said more
than “H-h-h-ello” to me. “My name is Grace. Nice to meet you,” you said
timidly. I chuckled and returned with a simple “Hello, I am Bryanne.” back
to you. That week’s note was more direct. “Good girls aren’t ashamed of
staring at beautiful women, or thinking about them when they masturbate.”
I saw you tremble when you read that note, and then noticed you softly
touching your still naked body in what you thought was an empty
locker-room. Then to both my amazement and delight, I saw you masturbating
feverishly to a crescendo of orgasm as you blurted out, “Oh, Bryanne!” It
was almost time.

The next week, I decided to surprise you by moving my locker to the one
right next to yours. As you were finished up changing, I appeared and made
sure to give you an eye full. I unzipped my jacket and instead of my
sports bra, my bare breasts were exposed for you to see. I could see the
pure lust and excitement in your eyes. You couldn’t stop looking at them.
“Like what you see?” I joked as I changed into my sports bra. You turned
bright red. You were adorable. You sputtered and stuttered something
incoherent as you rushed out the door to class. I noticed you tried to
avoid eye contact with me throughout the entire class. When it ended, I
walked up to you, put my arms around you and whispered, “Good girls aren’t
embarrassed in admiring someone they find to be beautiful.” Then I walked
away. I was done showering and changed by the time you re-entered the
locker-room. All the other women had left and I was certain you were
hoping I would be gone by now, too. When you approached the locker, I just
handed you a note and left before you read it, it simply said this, “Good
slave girls don’t ignore their Mistress, do they, Grace? Mistress

I have to admit the week between classes was a bit tense for me. I wasn’t
quite sure how you would react, or if you would even show up for this
week’s class. Much to my surprise and my delight, when I arrived at my
locker there you were in your cute workout outfit kneeling in front of my
locker. “Good morning, Mistress,” you said. “Good morning, pet,” I
answered with delight.

Call me to find out more about how much fun I am having with my pet project.
You’ve been trying to work up the courage for a while to call a phone
domme. How good can it really be you wonder? You’ve messaged me with a
couple of different names, asking me some innocent questions but never
having the courage to call. It’s a big step, I realize but the joy I can
bring you is so intense. It’s you again, I can tell same time, every
night, same tone. However, tonight’s different. Tonight’s, the night.
“slave, call ME now!”, I command.

It was a year ago tonight, when you first started calling – our
phone-adversary. You put your liquid leggings on and kneel before you pick
up the phone, it’s second nature now even though you could not have
imagined it back then. You’ve spent the last two hours masturbating to the
fetishes and celebrity obsessions that I have chosen for you, as there
will be no stroking on this call. So much has changed since that first
call. I remember the first time you called me Mistress and then Goddess
when you realized what I mean to you. I remember when you told me you
broke up with your girlfriend because she didn’t fit my plans for you. I
was so proud.

Now, I hear your voice on the phone and I hear the pleasure ripple through
your body when you hear mine. You long for these sessions with me, it is
everything to you. You have changed so much for me and I love it. From
your celebrity crushes to the tasks you perform daily to honor me. So much
of your life revolves around me now. It’s great isn’t it. You can’t
imagine what life was like without me you say?

So, what are you waiting for? You could be next. “slave, call ME now!”
I still remember the first time you called me, the trembling tone in your
voice, the shame and embarrassment – the neighbor’s daughter just back
from her first semester of college looking so beautiful in her sports bra
and yoga pants workout in the backyard. Why did she excite you so? You
told me how you couldn’t ever work up the courage to say hi to her. You
went upstairs to your bedroom and slowly pulled the curtain back and
watched. It felt so wrong but from the tent being pitched in your jeans,
it also felt so right. You closed the curtain and called me.

You were happy I didn’t judge you. I just asked you to describe what you
had seen. You mentioned how pert her breasts looked in that sports bra;
so, supple with her nipples bursting taut against the lycra material. You
talked about how naturally beautiful she was – no need for makeup with
soft, luscious lips and her flowing dirty blonde locks in a ponytail. You
told me you were always an ass man and her ass did not disappoint. You
said, “So much for the Freshman 15, she was in exquisite shape with an ass
to die for”. I told you that thinking about her made you weak didn’t it?
You said yes, and embarrassed, as you’d never thought of someone like her
that way before. I told you, “It feels good opening up to your Mistress
this way doesn’t it?”. You said, “Yes, Mistress” without even realizing it
and I knew you were mine. I told you, no, ordered you, to take your cock
out from its denim prison. YOU said it was rock hard and I told you to
remember that pleasing your Mistress will always make you feel this way. I
told you to take a cold shower, no stroking or cumming for you right now,
then you were to go out and talk to your neighbor’s daughter. You said,
“Yes, Mistress and went on your way.

It’s been six months since you became my slave. I hear the excitement in
your voice as you tell me that she will be home for her summer vacation
today. You’ve been spending your days since she’s been away workout and
obsessing over female celebrities and athletes that I’ve trained you to
adore because they remind you of her. The more you obsess over them and
her, the closer you have become to your Mistress. You can’t get enough of
me can you? You need me now more than ever. You beg me to help you get the
courage to talk to your neighbor’s daughter when she returns home. You
tell me it won’t be necessary, as you hear the ping of an email
notification. It’s from her. “I heard from your Mistress and she said
someone likes watching me workout and has a little crush. She also said
that I hear you have been trained how to properly serve and adore women.
Well, I could use an obedient little sugar daddy this summer so I can
spend my days working out and sunning. So, tell your Mistress I said
thanks”. You are speechless until I order you to repeat your mantra. “I
love and adore my Mistress Bryanne. I live to serve and worship dominant

I tell you to change into the compression shirt and tights I ordered you
to buy as your workout clothes. You will be putting on the show this
vacation. How hard your cock must be. Oh, I hear her car in the
background. Head on outside and hand her the phone. You do as your told. I
tell her, “We are going to have so much fun with my slave boy this summer.
Just remember he only can release when he is talking to me. Make sure to
check how hard he is for me right now, too.” Excited yet, slave boy?
When you come in to the room, the first words out of my mouth are “take
off your clothes, bitch.” I can see your hands trembling as you pull your
t-shirt up and over your head, revealing your taut young abdomen and chest
to me. My eyes sweep across your unblemished skin, a smile forming on my
lips. You are such a good boy.

You hesitate after your shirt is off, you hold it dangling in your
fingertips by the collar. My eyes lift to yours, the smile melting away, I
can see you are anxious.

“What did I say, cunt?”

Your head bows, your eyes darting away from my questioning gaze, you
whisper a barely audible “Yes, Goddess” as you let your shirt fall to the
floor, your hands moving to your belt. Fingers shaking, fumbling at
buttons and zipper, you open your jeans and start to push them down,
pulling your boxers with them. You hear me laugh and your face burns a
bright pink.

“You do not want to be naked in front of me, pet?”

Your breath hitches, you do not know how to answer. Should you say no?
Does it even matter? Your Goddess has requested something of you and you
know your response should be immediate, but you know that what comes after
you are naked and vulnerable in front of her. The idea of her sultry voice
standing up, walking around you, inspecting your naked body…and finding
it lacking. It fills you with shame and remorse. Why can’t you just be
enough to please your Goddess? Why were you cursed with such a tiny dick?
She reminds you of it every chance she gets.
You can’t take it anymore. Your cock has been hard since you caught a
glimpse of her ass, no panties, bent over in the kitchen several days ago.

You’ve tried to control it. But every morning she leans over and kisses
your head while you eat breakfast, inevitably a large breast brushes
against your shoulder. You can smell her. It intoxicates you.

She gives you full bodied hugs before bed and you can feel her softness
press against your body through her thin robe.

You go into your bedroom every single night and jerk off furiously, trying
desperately to take the edge off. You can’t believe you are thinking like
this. You’d kick some one in the teeth if they looked at her like you do.

One day, mid week, you went into her bathroom to get a new bottle of
shampoo. She wasn’t home. You caught a glimpse of something in her hamper.
Black and lacy…

You reach in…

Dangling from your fingertips, her panties. You can’t help yourself.

You bring them to your nose and inhale deeply, your eyes roll back in your
head as the crotch of those panties touch your nose and you feel they are
still damp.

Your hand shaking, you ball up your fist and stuff those panties in your
pocket and rush into the bathroom. You spend the next 30-40 minutes
beating the hell out of your massive dick while you rub those panties all
over your mouth and nose.

You know it’s wrong. You love her, you adore her. She’s everything to you.
You know you shouldn’t be feeling this way but you can’t help it. Nothing
takes the edge off.

The final straw. You came into the living room this evening and found her
on the couch, talking on the phone. You didn’t want to interrupt, but you
couldn’t help but over hear. You could tell from the tone of her voice she
was talking to a man
You pretended to flip through some channels on the TV, but your ears were
piqued. Focused on her side of the conversation.

“I’d love to. Yes tomorrow evening would be fine. 7pm? Great! See you

Your hands are shaking, your chest pounding hard. Did she just make a date?

She stands up, and leans over to kiss your forehead, her robe gaping open
for a moment and you stare right into her cleavage.

“Good night, baby, don’t stay up too late, I love you”

You mumble “love you too” as you feel a fire raging inside you. You watch
her leave the room and you lean back on the couch, jamming your hands into
your hair and wanting to scream.

Why do you feel so angry about this?

She just made a fucking date! You fume. You try to calm down. Your heart
feels torn into a million pieces when suddenly like a bright neon light
across your brain the words.

She’s mine.

You try to push the thought aside and go to your room. But it won’t leave.
Your brain spins in circles. You dig between your mattress and pull out
those panties. Staring at them in your hand. Feeling something close to
rage boiling up in your stomach, your cock swelling in your pants. It’s

You stand up, strip your clothes off and with your big dick and balls
swinging, you stride to her room.

She never fully closes the door so you ease it open and whisper “are you
awake?” She doesn’t reply. You slip inside knowing she falls asleep
quickly, you just watch her.

She’s half on her side, half on her stomach. Hugging a pillow. She’s
wearing a soft silky nighty and one leg is bent, the lace bottom of that
nighty barely covering her cheeks and not at all covering her pussy
peaking out between her softly parted thighs

You stare. Your cock jumping at the sight

Your balls suddenly getting heavier as they fill up with your desire to
take that pussy and make it yours.

There. Right there. That’s all you have ever needed.

You’ll have it. In one quick motion you are on the bed and on top of her,
pressing her face down against that pillow, burying your face in her hair
as your strong legs spread her thighs, your giant erection bouncing on her

Your hands grip her upper arms as she is jolted to consciousness. You can
tell by the way her body tenses and she lets out a scream how terrified
she is.

She starts to scream your name. Calling for you to help her, someone is in
her room! Your blood rushes to your head and you groan.

Your cock stiffening to unimaginable hardness. You have never been this hard.

She whips her head around and sees your face very near hers, her eyes go
wide. She realizes you are naked, the whole picture coming together.

“No, baby…no. Don’t do this”

You adjust your hips until your cock head presses against her little hole.

“I don’t have a choice”

She tries to get away, squirming desperately, but you are so much stronger
than she is. You have her arms pinned and your legs are keeping her from
closing them
She keeps begging you.

“Please, baby, please, don’t.”

You really want her to know. She’s yours. You want her to understand it at
such a soul shattering level that she will ever forget.

Your grip on her arms heavy, you pull back slightly and with a growl you
lunge your hips forward, not stopping until the head of your cock hits her

Her scream rips through the room; you know you’ve torn her. You love her
and you do not care.

You look down to see that not all of you is inside of her. Your stomach
tightens. You let go of her arms to grab her hips and you jerk her back.

She instantly uses her hands and arms to try to pull herself away. Still

“Baby please!!! You’re hurting me!!!”

You jerk her back harder as you push forward, she screams again.
You relish in the feeling of her now torn open hole spasming on your cock,
her body trying to push you out She continues to sob and claw at the bed,
your strong hands hold her on your cock as you begin pistoning.

Oh fuck yes. I’m going to make her come harder than she’s ever come. She
won’t want another cock after she’s had me buried deep into her belly.
When she cries to you again how much it hurts, you simply reply “I know, I
love you”

Your voice tight, almost cruel.

You can feel your seed drawing up in your balls. But you feel something
else too. You feel her pussy juices dripping down onto your balls…
Did she come? Are you so involved in raping her that you didn’t notice? Is
she so ashamed that her body betrayed her that she hid it some how?
You tell her that you can feel her pleasure. That you know.
She sobs again and asks you to please stop, however she is no longer
trying to get away. You say to her that you are going to make her do it
again and then you are going to fill her up with your seed. You start
pumping in earnest once more. You hear her gasp as she hears that and you
feel the fight come back.

“You cannot come inside me, baby!!!”

She twists and struggles screaming at you to stop this now, you keep
driving pounding into her tight little hole.

“You’ll get me pregnant baby, don’t!!!”

“Exactly… Then you’ll never leave me…”

Even during her fight, you feel her body respond to your savage love. You
grunt with satisfaction as you feel the start of her orgasm. Your balls
pulled up tight, your seed erupting forth into her spasming hole directly
at her womb. She gasps and groans as your big cock swells inside of her
and she feels it, hot thick baby seed hitting her cervix.

“Oh my god no, baby!!!”

You collapse on top of her, crushing her into the mattress. Breathing hard
You bury your face in her neck and place a soft kiss there, and growl at her

“You’re going to cancel that date, mommy”
It is no secret that I am a sadist. I really love hurting you. My ultimate
fantasy, however, is to find that one bitch who has no boundaries, no
limits…or the limits he does have, he begs me to push, to break down. I
want to go to extremes. I want to break you down into a begging,
whimpering, crying heap of nothing. Even the most submissive of men have
an ego. That ego needs to be crushed. I am just the right woman to do it.
So imagine it, you torn down into nothing, existing only for my pleasure
and amusement.
I had the most delicious opportunity to fuck Layla yesterday. She is one
hot little slut and I really cannot wait to fuck her again! So, I was
thinking, maybe she is the baby sitter, and you and I come home early to
find her in our bed, playing with my vibrator. She ought to be punished,
wouldn’t you agree? Should I force her to suck your cock while I make her
come over and over again with my vibrator? Maybe I should take her over my
lap and spank her while you shove your thick hard cock down her throat?
Whatever we play, I guarantee you, I will make you both come so hard!
I know some think I am a cruel bitch, and they would be right. I daydream
about torturing silly sluts until they beg me for mercy. Mercy is very
rarely forthcoming. The sound of whimpers, gasps and moans of pain are
what drive me. So when you beg, and you will beg, I only want to hear
more. So please, indulge my little obsession. Tell me when it hurts, I
won’t stop, I just want to know that it hurts. As I bind you to my bed (or
my desk, the counter, the table, wherever I want you) and twist you in
unimaginable ways, let me hear you. It is a no win situation for you, if I
cannot hear you, I will only drive harder to make you vocalize your pain
and when you do, it will inspire me to force more out of you.