Mistress Mitzie, a towering dominatrix in a world of average height men, strutted her way into the private training room of her penthouse. She donned a pair of five-inch stiletto heeled, thigh-high leather boots that made her already towering six-foot one frame, even more intimidating. She commanded the attention of everyone in the room, especially her newest slave, Jim.
Jim had been under Mistress Mitzie’s training for a few months now, and it was the best few months of his life. He was a submissive man, but never fully embraced that side of him until he met Mistress Mitzie. He worshipped the ground she walked on and would do anything to make her happy. Even if that meant allowing her to turn him into her personal foot stool.
On this particular evening, Jim found himself naked and over Mistress Mitzie’s lap. She was teaching him a lesson, as he had been a bit naughty that day. She ran her hands over his ass, feeling the heat rise to the surface of his skin. Her fingers trailed down to his cock, feeling the throbbing erection that he sported. She chuckled softly, knowing that she was the cause of his arousal.
Jim moaned, arching his back as she continued to tease him. He knew he deserved this punishment, but damn, it felt so good. He wanted to reach down and stroke his cock, but he knew better than to move without Mistress Mitzie’s permission.
“You’ve been a very bad boy, Jim,” Mistress Mitzie cooed, her fingers tracing the curve of his ass. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. “But I think I can find a way to make you behave better.”
She reached for the paddle that lay on the table next to them. It was a thick, leather paddle that would leave a satisfying sting on Jim’s ass. She brought it down on his cheek, the sound echoing through the room. Jim hissed, his cock throbbing even harder at the sensation.
Mistress Mitzie continued to spank him, her blows raining down on his ass in a steady rhythm. Jim’s mind was a blur of pleasure and pain, his body trembling with each strike. He could feel the heat radiating from his ass, the sting of the paddle making him even harder.
“Please, Mistress,” he begged, his voice hoarse. “Please let me cum.”
Mistress Mitzie chuckled, her hand trailing down to his cock. She gave it a gentle squeeze, feeling the precum that leaked from the tip. “Beg for it, Jim,” she commanded.
Jim’s mind went blank as he begged for Mistress Mitzie’s permission. He pleaded with her, promising to be a good boy and do anything she asked. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing with each word that left his lips.
Mistress Mitzie finally relented, her hand moving faster on his cock. Jim threw his head back, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. He cried out, his body trembling as he emptied himself onto the floor.
Mistress Mitzie chuckled, her hand still moving on his cock. She loved the way Jim surrendered to her, the way he begged for her touch. It was intoxicating, and she couldn’t get enough.
Once Jim’s orgasm subsided, Mistress Mitzie allowed him to curl up at her feet. She ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him as he recovered from his orgasm. She loved the way he looked at her, the way he worshipped her. She was his mistress, his goddess, and he was her devoted slave.
Jim lay at Mistress Mitzie’s feet, his body still trembling from his orgasm. He felt content, happy even. He had pleased his mistress, and that was all that mattered to him. He knew he would do anything for her, even if it meant being her personal foot stool.
Mistress Mitzie smiled down at him, her fingers still running through his hair. She loved Jim, in her own twisted way. He was her slave, her plaything, and she would never let him go. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his forehead. “Good boy,” she whispered, her voice soft and soothing.
Jim closed his eyes, a content smile on his lips. He was Mistress Mitzie’s good boy, and he would always be. He was her slave, her property, and he would do anything to please her. He was hers, and he would always be.
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