First Meeting — A Work of Fiction.
It was last summer that I first met Mistress Jenny James in real life. I had known her for quite a long time by then. We had arranged to meet about two weeks earlier.
It was a warm summer’s evening. It was about 6pm when I arrived at her house. She looked absolutely stunning. Her eyes were beautifully manicured. Her eye brows arched so perfectly. She had used mascara on her eyelashes which seemed longer than ever. Her lips were cherry red and the make up had been applied so subtly—enough to enhance her natural beauty, but not enough to hide it. She wore a loose fitting tee-shirt, and under that a bikini top, holding her ample bosom perfectly. This was tucked into tight blue jeans and on her lovely feet she wore sandals.
Instead of inviting me in, she led me round the side of the house to her back garden, my eye caught on her lovely backside as it swung back and forth, like a natural, perfectly synchronised pendant.
Her back garden was completely secluded, with conifers growing all around it. Not only did they stop anyone overlooking the garden, they also provided a barrier to sound. The garden was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of a bird. I commented on the fact. She replied “Yes I was sun bathing nude here earlier today”. My imagination started running wild at the idea of her beautiful naked body in the hot warm sunshine. I smiled at her.
The garden was completely lawn and in the centre was a picnic table, which she invited me to. I handed her a basket of items which she had asked me to bring,—her favourite chocolates,—some flowers—an alcoholic drink—she had been very specific about what she wanted and I had searched high and low for it before finding it. She was thrilled that I had actually found it for her. I also gave her a packet of 10 cigarettes. She explained that she only smoked when she drank. Again it was a slightly unusual brand, and she was glad I had taken the trouble to find them. She said that she had passed the test. I was wondering—the test for what, but I didn’t ask. She also smiled at me and said I had a lot of potential. Again, I had potential for what? What had she got planned for me?
She had two glasses on the table. She opened the booze and poured two glasses, and bid me sit down with a motion of her hand. She sat directly opposite so that she could look at me straight in the eye with those lovely large brown hypnotic eyes of hers. It was so cosy, so intimate, just the two of us there. We talked and drank, and drank and talked, although I had to limit myself to how much I drank as I was driving home. Time just flew past when I was with her. I can’t remember exactly everything she said to me. I can remember at one point staring deeply into her eyes and her going on about how nice it was to just relax with a friend, how she felt she could trust me, and how she wanted me to trust in her. She wanted me to trust in her completely. She was also very glad that it looked like I could relax with her. She liked it when people relaxed for her. She talked about how good it was to relax and just let go once in a while. It all seemed to make such perfect sense. I adored her. I loved her. I worshipped her. I just wanted to make her happy.
After a while she opened the packets of cigarettes. She stood up. She told me to kneel in front of her. I obeyed of course. She lit her cigarette, standing over me. She told me I was going to be her human ashtray for her. She told me to open my mouth and put my tongue out. Obeying her seemed so natural, and once again I did exactly as I was told, without fear. Somehow I trusted in her. I trusted in her completely, as she slowly smoked the cigarette, flicking the ash onto my tongue, making comments of how she was delighted to finally have me exactly where she wanted me. The ash didn’t seem to hurt me at all, and I was delighted to be of service to her.
As she got towards the end of her cigarette, she told me to cup the palm of my hand and to spit my saliva into it. She then carefully extinguished the cigarette in my saliva, taking great care not to burn my palm. She explained how some dominatrixes actually stub out their cigarettes on their submissive slaves, but she didn’t want to hurt me, she didn’t want to mark me. I thanked her for her consideration. She smiled down at me. She had appreciated that.
She then asked me to eat the butt of the cigarette. I again obeyed. She smiled and told me that I was such a good boy for her. I smiled. It made me so happy to think that I had pleased her. Somehow pleasing her was the only thing that seemed to matter.
Then she said that because I had been such a good boy she was going to make me cum. She told me to undo my jeans and lower them and my underpants. She smiled down at my tiny cock. She commented on how it may be tiny now, but soon it would be big. She told me to start stroking it.
Then, turning round, she made me look at her round, perfect bum. It was right in my face. It was the loveliest bottom I had ever seen. What I think of as a “Goldilocks’ Arse”—not too big, not too small, just right! So round, so perfect.
She started talking to me in her lovely, smooth, silky seductive voice again.
“You are such a good butt boy. You eat my cigarette butt for me. You also love my butt. I also know how much you love hypnosis. You love being hypnotised by me. Watch my butt sway back and forth.” With this she started swaying her cute ass from side to side. My eyes followed it instinctively.
“Just concentrate on my voice and my butt as you jerk off more and more to my butt. You can’t get enough of my butt. It turns you on so much. Now, I want you to cum for me. But not before I say the word. Are you nice and hard now? You are? Good. Keep rubbing for me. Your hand should be going back and forth. Masturbate more and more for me. You are such a good boy for me. You love being a good boy for me. You want to serve me for the rest of your life. You want me to be your Mistress. You want to cum for me. Not until I give you permission. Keep your eyes on my ass. Notice what happens when I bend down like this and thrust my arse right in your face. Now I am going to do this 10 times, and count each time, and when I reach ten I want you to cum.
10 — You are getting more and more excited now.
9 — You are feeling yourself starting to go for your mistress.
8 — You are completely lost in my words, my bum, everything about me.
7 — Nothing else matters other than pleasing your Mistress.
6 — Keep rubbing hard and obeying your Mistress.
5 — You are longing to cum, but you will not do so until I tell you to.
4 — You are so aroused now; you are dying to cum for your Mistress
3 — You know that once you do cum for me you will be mine forever.
2- You adore, worship and love me so much!
1 — Cum now! Cum for your Mistress!
I came on the count of one, right on cue! It was the largest orgasm that I had ever experienced. I had been saving myself for the last two weeks, since the meeting had been arranged. She turned round and laughed and bent down and kissed me and told me once again what a good boy I was. She then gave me a tissue to clean myself up. By then it was time for me to go home. She led me round to the front of the house. I told her I loved her. She replied that she knew I did and that I would have to learn to love her even more. I thanked her for everything. She told me I was her precious pet and patted me on my head. I was almost in a daze when I got back in my car. I had to remind myself how to drive again! I left with many memories that I will treasure until the day I die.