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Mistress Cali: my year as slave #4 – ebook

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Mistress Cali: My Year in Bondage by WR Maxwell

The story of a middle-aged man who surrenders his life to Mistress Cali, a woman he meets on the internet, but barely knows, and becomes her slave #4. He dreams of being her collared slave, living happily-ever-after in Martinsburg, West Virginia.  But Cali has three other slaves who have served Mistress Cali for many years, and thus he becomes her #4 slave – the low man on the totem pole.  He lives, shackled, in a stall in the barn behind the mansion. His body hair is burned away, he’s tattooed as a “slave”, his cock and nipples pierced – and that’s just in his first week of training. He serves at the pleasure of Mistress Cali at her infamous and lavish dungeon parties where he becomes a pony play. No-holds-barred BDSM. Contains male and female domination, forced servitude, sex on-demand both oral and anal, CBT, strap-on dildo, public nudity, paddling, spanking, whipping and sadism.

Artist Credit

Cover Art Image © Ekaterina Vidyasova – Shutterstock.com

ISBN

978-1-954079-11-3

Page Count

120

Publish Date

04/03/2021

Word Count

70200

Excerpt

“All my friends and extended family have been hearing so much about my new little perverted slut. They can’t wait to give you a nice collaring present — say three strokes with a paddle. Three from each of them. Would that be a suitable present for my new slut?”

“Yes Mistress,” I said, but was worried about answering rhetorical questions.

“There are 31 of them, just like the story you told me about Boy Scout camp, so let me start you off with four good smacks to get the ball rolling.”

Billy Ray interrupted, “here you go Mistress, Ma’am. A new paddle for a new slave. It’s made from Tennessee shag-bark hickory, from the north side of the mountain where the trees are a might stronger. I cut the tree myself and whittled it down to fit your hand to a tea. It only needs a final polish. You think that ass of your new slave can make enough butt-sweat to do the job ?”

A large calloused hand stroked my buttocks.

“I reckon so. And it’s nice and soft, too. This one ain’t been beat much, Ma’am.”

“Oh thank you Billy Ray. What a lovely paddle, and a good length, so I won’t have to bend to use it,” said Cali. “Now, slut, ass in the air and grab your ankles.”

I complied. I mean what could I do ? I had trained to be Mistress Cali’s slave for over a year. Besides, where was I going to go ? Naked, chained, in a strange town, and at night ?

Mistress Cali said, “Oh, if I add another three at the end, that will make an even 100. Won’t you like that, slut? Just like when you were in the Boy Scouts.”

“Yes Mistress. You are so good to me.” A slave always needs to be compliant, without sounding sarcastic. I was worried I had crossed that line.

The first guest stood beside me. He was a man, judging by his shoes, and he lined up my ass with a practice swing of the paddle, just like a golfer does before addressing the ball.

Smack, smack, smack. I counted each stroke; five, six, seven, between the small cries of pain. The paddle was passed to the next guest, and the scene repeated, only this time on my other side — my blind side.

Smack, smack, smack; eight, nine and ten. Judging from the strength of the swats, this guest was a woman.

As Mistress Cali felt the glowing warmth of my ass with her hand, she said, “then after receiving your presents, slut, and while the rest of my guest enjoy their diner, we can have Billy Ray, DeMarcus and Raoul take turns ass raping you, slut. Wouldn’t you like that, my slut?”

“Yes Mistress, and thank you, Mistress Cali, for taking me. I am so lucky to be yours.”

I knew that if it got bad, or when it got bad, I could always beg for mercy, which was my only hope, since I did not know the safe word, if there was a safe word.

“Just so you don’t forget, the next one will be eleven, slut.”

Before the next guest could deliver my punishment, Mistress interrupted the beating saying, “You know, slut, our guests need to be entertained. I had hired a band, but that was for yesterday. Unlike the hotel, they could not re-arrange their schedule and play tonight. You lost the $300 dollar deposit you paid for the band, but no matter. Its only money.”

I sighed at the loss of $300, which was more than I had in my wallet — where ever that was. Actually, this sort of financial domination had been going on for several months, ever since giving Mistress Cali my credit card numbers.

“But I’m sure you can find another way to keep our friends amused during supper. Do you play an instrument — guitar perhaps ? Or maybe you are a singer ?”

With my head still on the floor, I said, “no Mistress. My singing is poor and I cannot play an instrument.”

“Oh, I bet you play the ‘skin flute’ very well, especially given a little motivation. And I know just the thing to get you motivated — a good, old fashioned ass fucking. Billy Ray, bring in a spanking benched. When number 4 is done receiving his presents from our guests, tie down my new slave.”

“Whoo-wee, glad to oblige, Ma’am,” said Billy Ray as he disappeared out the main doors and into the hotel lobby. It did seem a little strange that a fine hotel like this one would keep a piece of furniture only suited for corporal discipline, but this was Martinsburg and ‘strange’ seems to be the new normal.

“You see, slut, for the amusement of our guests, we are going to make you into a one-man-band. When they are eating dinner, and when you are not playing Raoul’s skin flute, DeMarcus will have you scat-singing like a you were in a Harlem jazz club, as he fucks you.”

Billy Ray bangs through the double doors of the ballroom with a sawhorse style spanking bench. On wheels, no less.

“Here she is Miss Cali. Ain’t she a beauty ? The last one the hotel had that wasn’t bolted to the floor in some room. But, ah, the hotel clerk fella wants $10 an hour plus a $50 deposit.”

I glance at the bench, but only for a moment, since Mistress had not given me permission to look up from the floor. It was a very nice, well constructed, spanking bench and completely portable. It had well polished rails on each side of the ‘A’ frame legs. The top rail was a padded two by 10 with semicircular cutouts for breast bondage — should the person tied to the bench be a female submissive. There was even a ‘V’ shaped cutout at the head end of the top rail so the unfortunate submissive, me in this case, could hang his head and cry as he was being spanked.

Mistress Cali said, “Billy Ray, you forgot the chin board. You know, the insert that keeps the slave’s head up so he can be forced to suck cock.”

“Gall dang, you’re right. Let me go fetch it, but, oh, I’ll need the $50 for the deposit.

“Take it from slut’s wallet. I’m sure it is in his pants in the kitchen.”

I received another three swats of the paddle. I watched the preparations of my torture implement as I knelt on the floor. Someone produced several hanks of rope and tied them to the bench, but allowing ample length of free cordage to secure my legs, arms, and body to the bench.

“See slut; while the rest of our guests enjoy their dinner, we can have Billy Ray, DeMarcus and Raoul take turns ass-raping you, and of course, once they are finished buggering your rear end, they can shove their shitty cocks down your throat. Wouldn’t you like that slut ?”

I gulped at the thought of doing ass-to-mouth, the bravely said, “yes Mistress, and thank you, Mistress Cali, for taking me as your slave. I am so lucky to be yours.”

“Oh, by the way, you didn’t count those last three strokes, so they will have to be repeated. Just so you know, the count is still eleven.”

I learned later that Mistress Cali normally charges a client $500 for a scene like this. I thought I was very lucky indeed, because I was being raped on both ends for free.

“Your debasement should take us to the dessert course, which you shall serve to my guests — naked. But since the caterer is not ready to serve dessert, I think it is time to resume your ass-spanking. Head on the floor and stick that butt in the air to receive there presents to you.”

“Yes Mistress Cali.”

The next three stroke landed and dutifully announced, “eleven, twelve, thirteen.”

The crop whistled through the air and landed with full impact on my other ass cheek.

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