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Samantha's Slave by Patrick Richards

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Cover Image by Patrick Lane


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If you like stories where the mistress completely controls and dominates her slave, who is nothing more than an article of property, you’ll definitely want to add this to your favorites list. Dub Parker (click link for full review)

Like A Mouse In A Trap by Patrick Richards, Femdom
She's the woman of his dreams, all he's ever wanted, but can he survive what this cruel Mistress dishes out in pain and suffering?

Copyrighted © 2006 by Patrick Richards, all rights reserved.  

My cock was pounding with excitement as I drove closer to the city. My mood was not dampened by the weather. A cold rain splattered against the windshield of my coupe as lightning flashed off in the distance. It was one of those nights. You know, it was like the beginning scenes of an old-time horror flick or a mystery on television. The thunder rumbles and the lightning flashes, while the wind howls, blowing the curtains of rain against the dark stone walls of the ivy covered mansion.

       The ominous, black-clouded sky was illuminated by brilliant streaks of electricity whipping its way to the ground in a violent multitude of strands like a fiery cat-o’-nine-tails. With each strike, shadows brightened with the ever-deafening roar…

 

       I approached the dark structure as another lightning bolt slashed across the sky. My excitement was leveling off a little and a sense of nervousness took its place. My fate was waiting just down the street.

       After parking on the third floor of the parking garage, I walked quickly to the restaurant. It was mid-June, but because of a cold front, it felt more like October. Even though dinner reservations were for seven, I arrived a few minutes early, just in case.

       It took twenty dollars for the maitre d’ to seat me at a secluded table. Time passed very slowly as I waited for her arrival. At seven-thirty the waiter brought me another Scotch. I sipped the Glenfiddich slowly. Where was she? I can understand her being fashionably late, but I began to wonder if I was to be stood up. I’d have to make a decision pretty soon. What would I do if she didn’t show up? God, I hope she comes, but it’s not looking good. Maybe it’s the weather – the bad omen!

       At a little after eight, I decided to leave. I guess she wasn’t going to show. When the waiter brought me my check, it was interrupted by a stern voice. I was taken totally by surprise.

       “If you expect to serve me and be my slave, you’ll wait all night if necessary. Most of you pussy lickers are just the same. You think life revolves around you, but it doesn’t. Maybe I should just leave, or maybe I should give you the pain you deserve and crush your worthless testicles right here in the middle of this restaurant.”

       The waiter quickly departed.

       I immediately rose from my chair and tried to apologize while courteously seating her at the table. It was hard to find the right words, for her beauty was overwhelming. She was a Goddess.

       “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it. I – ah – I’m very sorry. I really am. Here, I brought you these.” While handing her a dozen long-stemmed roses, wrapped with black leather and silken bands, I dropped to my knees and continued my apology. “It won’t happen again. I promise. Please forgive me for not being patient enough. I – I’m Jack.”

       She didn’t speak, but just looked down at the menu.

       I stared at her. Who was she? There were so many things about her that intrigued me already. She was young, probably in her very early thirties. Being so attractive, why was she interested in me? She could have anything or anyone she wanted. Was it for money? Why would such a magnificent creature want to fulfill my strange desires?  What does she really need? It was very puzzling, but I was going to find out.

       Her long, lightened hair outlined a very pretty face. Large, emerald eyes and perfect lips highlighted her lustful appearance. She wore just enough make-up to highlight her beauty, not so much as to make her look cheap. Her black leather dress was elegant, tight enough to accentuate her breasts, sexy, yet not gaudy. There was something about her that possessed me immediately. I continued to stare and wonder. My God, she was Aphrodite…

 

       She reached down and picked up her black leather handbag. As she slowly opened it, I couldn’t help noticing the large, glistening bright diamond on her finger. She placed a pair of black satin and lace panties and a large gold-colored padlock on the table between us.

       She carefully watched my eyes as I studied the two objects. They are so different. Her silken panties are hot and feminine, beautiful and so secretively personal. The brass lock is cold, hard and permanent. They are nothing alike, yet both of these items excited me. Both are symbols of my lust and fetish. To have the panties and the treasure they hold I must have the lock and the bondage it represents. These visually opposite objects are keys to my needs and desires.

       My attention was focused on the lustful one – the soft, silky, sexy garment. I remembered back to the early days of grammar school, when we boys took every possible advantage to look up girls’ skirts, hoping to just get a glimpse of their pretty little panties. The girls learned at an early age to almost hide them from us. It’s funny how such a simple act was so exciting when you are young. Hmm...Maybe it’s not so different when you get older.

       Now here they are on the table exposed to everyone in a fancy restaurant, and I can’t take my eyes off of them.

       My hand slowly reached out to her offering. Gently I rubbed the smooth fabric between my fingers.

       “You like them, don’t you?” she inquired softly.

       “I don’t know...”

       “Oh, you like them. There’s no doubt. You even touched them first. Go ahead, pick them up. You’ll especially like these. I wore them for a couple of days, just for you. Put them to your nose and breathe in deeply. Inhale me. I know you want to. You want them, and you want me.”

       She sipped her wine, as I drowned in her sweet, musky aroma. I took a deep breath, savoring the aphrodisia of her loins. It was absolutely heaven!

       “Kiss them,” she whispered. “Kiss them passionately, the same way you’d kiss my pussy.”

       Ever so gently, I placed my lips against the slightly soiled fabric that had previously encased her treasured lips.

       “Oh...!” A whisper-moan escaped my lips. Samantha had removed her shoe and rubbed her stockinged foot against the hard bulge that had grown in my pants. As I caressed her panties, she continued to rub my cock.

       “I thought as much,” she quietly added. “I knew you’d have a hard-on. I knew you’d crave my panties and my love scent. Even though we’ve only just met, I know you Jack. I know your every desire, your every need and your every thought.”

       Her foot continued to rub my crotch. God, she excites me!

       “Suck my nectar from them. Taste my bitter-sweet honey. It’s only a little sample of what you’ll get later.”

       Slowly I brought the silken treasure back to my lips. My cock jumped, as I started sucking her precious potent from them. I was intoxicated by the taste and aroma that had flowed from her loins.

       As I continued to make love to her panties, she picked up the lock and started twirling it slowly around her index finger.

       “There is something that you must do.”

       “Anything you want, my dear.”

       “Go into the men’s room, remove your pants and underwear, lock this padlock around your testicles and put on my panties.”

       “But—”

       “Don’t ever question my orders, just do it. Now! Hurry up! And bring me back your underwear.”

       I excused myself from the table, put her panties in my pocket and started for the rest room.

       “Wait just a minute!” she said sternly. “Carry them in your hand. Let them dangle from your fingers. Hold them proudly, for they are mine. Think of the privilege that I am allowing you to even touch my panties, let alone sniff and taste them. Let everyone see the precious gift that I have given you.”

       Slowly I made my way to the men’s room. Many thoughts were going through my head. There was no doubt about it. She was different than anyone else that I had ever met. Even though she was fucking with my brain, a tingle of excitement raged through my entire body.

       Without hesitation, I followed her orders. I removed my clothes and hung them on the hook in the toilet stall. I stood there for a few moments and examined the cold, metal lock.

       A heavy Yale lock like this could secure a bank vault, I thought. It was made of solid brass and case-hardened steel. It was strong and secure.

       The fingers of my left hand circled my scrotum, cramming my balls to the bottom of their pouch. They were firm and full of cum. She had excited me. Cautiously I looped the padlock around the tender flesh of my sack, thus separating my testicles from the rest of my body. I looked at the lock and my balls for a few moments, took a deep breath and snapped it shut. It then occurred to me that with this simple device, she had already taken total control. She was the only one who could remove the lock. She was the only one who had the key. I had become her property. From this moment on, I was her prisoner. I had taken the first step to becoming her slave. She was my Mistress.

       I picked up her panties and brought them to my nose again. I inhaled deeply, savoring the magnificent, musky fragrance. Again I drew in a deep breath. She was definitely right. I loved them. The fantastic aroma of her sex made my cock immediately double in size. I rubbed the slick smoothness of the fabric across my face before stepping into the leg opening of her underwear. I pulled the fancy silk-like material up over my hips. They were quite snug on my body. With difficulty, I pushed my tethered testicles and semi-swollen member down between my legs and pulled the panties up tight, securing my manhood in her most feminine attire. I ran my hands across them, examining the smooth, silken feel. My fingers slid across the cheeks of my ass and carefully caressed the lace panel that covered the front of her panties. It was wonderful.

       Someone else entered the men’s room, so I finished dressing and returned to the dining room, carrying my light blue BVD bikinis back to my Goddess.

       “You had no trouble fitting your tiny, little pecker into my pretty panties, did you slave?” She spoke just loudly enough so that others around us could hear her plainly. “You should feel honored that I allow you to wear them.”

       There was no doubt that several of the other restaurant customers heard her. I was the center of their attention. They looked at me as they whispered and giggled. I’m sure that my face was turning all shades of red. I was totally embarrassed. I wanted to hide. I wanted to die.

       “Show me your underwear!” she demanded. “Hold them up, so I can see them real well.”

       I shouldn’t have been so embarrassed about showing them off; after all, the younger guys hang their pants on their hips and have their underwear show to the entire world. It’s the trend today, but holding them up for her examination right here was not easy.

       “Why is the front of them all wet? What is that? Did you pee in your underwear?”

       I was silent and just looked sheepishly down at the table. There was a large patch of sticky pre-cum in the front of them.

       “Well, I’m waiting. Did you piss your pants or did you jerk off in them, when I sent you to change into my panties?”

       I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there.

       “Maybe I excite you just a little bit. I hope so, but we’ll see how excited you are about me at the end of the evening. Now clean those disgusting things up. Suck them clean, now!”

       Slowly I put the cotton fabric to my lips and started to suck my sex juices from them. The cleaning continued as the waiter approached with our “dinner.” …

 

       When we were finished, I paid the bill, left the waiter a generous tip and placed my soiled underwear that I had used as a napkin, beside my plate.

       There was still a mist of rain in the damp, cold air outside the restaurant.

       When we reached the car, we paused. She again took me completely off guard, as she turned, took me in her arms and passionately kissed me with her arms draped around my neck. We embraced for several minutes. Her tongue slid in and out of my mouth, and she ground her hot pussy against my crotch and the ever-growing bulge in my pants.

       Finally our lips parted, and she whispered, “Give me your keys.” Then she kissed me again.

       She stepped back slightly, unlocked the car and smiled. “Take off your clothes. Everything, except my panties.”

       “Here?”

       “Don’t hesitate. Do it now before someone comes along. You wouldn’t like me to embarrass you in front of someone, would you?”

       God knows, she’s good at that. I stood there in silence and utter disbelief for a few moments. Then I humbly undressed and put my clothes on the seat of my car. It was cold and my body was immediately covered with goose bumps. She pulled my arms behind me and quickly closed a pair of handcuffs tightly around my wrists. The final click of the cold steel bands sent a shiver through me.

       She turned me around and pushed me up with my back against the car and squeezed my cock. It was getting as hard as her panties would allow, trussed deeply between my legs. She kissed me again, this time even longer than before while continuing to rub my crotch. Her lips nibbled along my neck as she continued. Her passion led her down my chest, where she took one of my nipples and sucked on it for a few moments. Suddenly she bit down hard! My tender flesh was between her beautiful white teeth. Slowly she pulled away, keeping a painfully, tight grip on my tit. Finally my nipple slipped from her teeth, pinching the very tip.

       “Ah-h-h!”

       Once was not enough. She did the same thing to the other side. Both of my tits hurt. Then she stepped back and grabbed both of my nipples with her fingers, pulling away and twisting violently at the same time. “Come on!”

       I had no choice but to follow her to the back of the car. The trunk opened, and she motioned for me to get in.

       “But...”

       Her finger came to my lips, indicating for me to be silent. Carefully and with great difficulty, I climbed into the tiny trunk of the little, black coupe. It was dark and very uncomfortable, as she sped down the highways. She drove for almost an hour before arriving at her house in the suburbs.

       After she parked in the driveway, she opened the trunk and merely commanded, “Follow me, slave!”

       I finally struggled my way out of the trunk and followed her into the spacious ranch house. We went directly to her bedroom. Samantha quickly undressed and fell back onto the edge of her bed. She opened her beautiful long legs, exposing her magnificent pussy. A neatly trimmed, dark bush haloed her hungry box.

       “Eat me! Let’s see if you’re worth keeping around!”

       Without hesitation, I fell to my knees to worship the Holy Grail. Being so early in our relationship, I would have been honored just to see the treasure, but I am being allowed to lick her lips, suck her juices and rub her clit.

       She was exquisite. Her entire body was magnificent, a sculptor’s masterpiece. I buried my face deeply between her legs, and my tongue began to delicately fondle every inch of her honey pot. As my tongue slid deeply within her loins, my nose rubbed her clitoris, making it hard. I licked, nibbled, kissed and worshiped her sweet pussy for more than two hours. I couldn’t get enough of her and desperately wanted to please my Mistress. The more I devoured her musky gash, the more she trembled in pleasure. With every climax of her powerful loins, I drank the sweet nectar – never losing a drop. Her orgasms continued, one after another, each more powerful than the last. Still I continued to bring her pleasure. My throbbing cock leaped and thrashed, as it tried to break the satin bond that held it tucked down tightly between my legs.

       Finally my Mistress had pleasured enough. “Stop!” she moaned, as she tried to catch her breath. She pushed me away. “With a lot of practice, you might get good enough. If I allow you the privilege of being my slave, you’ll do that every day for the rest of your life, guaranteed.”

       I had satisfied her. Her sexual desires had been completely fulfilled. The loins of my worship spewed forth the treasure of her lust, and now it would be my turn. I’d enjoyed my oral treat but desperately wanted more. I needed more of her domination. I craved the fate that awaited me.

       She motioned for me to stand up. As I did, she pulled her black panties from my hips and removed them. My cock immediately jumped up to full attention. I had a hard-on of enormous proportions. Globs of pre-cum seeped from my manhood. I was ready for anything.

       She took her panties and wiped my cock clean before, shoving them in my mouth. “At least this little thing will make a good handle. Believe me, it’s not worth a hell of a lot more!” she said, as she roughly grabbed my throbbing dick. “Come along and let me show you what else really excites me!”

       I was pulled down the hall and into another room. As I glanced around, I became even more excited and nearly blew my rocks into her hand. A large collection of whips and paddles hung on the wall to my left. A St. Andrew’s cross was on my right with its strong leather shackles. Chains hung from the ceiling and several other pieces of medieval-type dungeon equipment were neatly arranged around the room. It was truly magnificent!

       She led me to the far side of her chamber where a rugged, old butcher block stood against the wall. It was slightly modified to suit her purpose. I paid little attention to anything else as she slid a loop of eighth inch nylon rope over the end of my prick. The other end of the rope went down through a hole about seven inches from the big wooden slab’s edge.

       Within moments, my entire attention was focused on the end of my blood engorged cock. The faint sound of a ratchet on the side of the torture block meant nothing until the thin rope pulled painfully tight behind the head of my penis. Tighter and tighter, the noose went. A faint moan escaped from my panty-gagged lips. She only smiled and walked away. I felt like a mouse in a trap. The tip of my cock was turning a deep, dark purple. The rest of my cock swelled, trying to push the blood through my veins. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, so I was at her mercy.

       As the pain dulled from lack of circulation, I raised my head. There on the wall before me was a butcher’s cleaver and several large knives. My stomach turned violently. Terror filled my brain. Beads of sweat covered my body. Oh God! She’s going to cut my cock off! I tried to pull away, but it was impossible. I was her prisoner. She could do anything to me that she wanted. I’d soon find out that being a Bobbitt would have been a lot easier than the pain that soon followed.

       I’m sure that only a few minutes had passed, but the time of wondering and worrying seemed like an eternity. Finally she returned, dressed for the occasion. A black leather corset was laced tightly beneath her breasts. Her beautiful melons were pushed up above the sexy garment. Garters cascaded down her thighs, holding up black, lace-topped stockings. Her long, shapely legs disappeared into knee-high black boots. God, she was magnificent!

       Her hand gripped the instrument of my ordeal. It was not a knife, but a small whip. The weapon only had tails a foot long, but they were enough. They would do! Each of the strands of the small cat were made of thin, stiff, twisted leather. The black, snake-like fingers hung rigid and ready from her black gloved hand.

       She rubbed the cheeks of my ass and whispered softly in my ear. “Spread your legs wide, my slave.” As I did, she reached down between my legs and grabbed the lock that haltered my balls. I felt her pull them back. Her soft hands rubbed my imprisoned testicles ever so gently, making me want her more. “Remember what I said a while ago? There are two things in life that excite me and really turn me on. One is being eaten for hours, being serviced by my slave’s tongue and having dozens of magnificent orgasms. The other is bringing pain to the ones I love. I like a man who craves my whip. My pussy drips just thinking of all the wonderful things I can do to your helpless body. As I put my marks upon your flesh and make you beg for mercy, my loins will erupt with more pleasure than a tongue can ever bring. You’ll see. You’ll feel my lust, as your pain brings me the ultimate pleasure. And, you know what? No matter how much I hurt you, no matter what I do to you tonight, you’ll beg to come back and experience more of it. I know you, Jack. If your cock was not tied so tight, you’d be dripping just like I am. I can feel the heat in your balls. I can feel them churning with lust, wanting to explode.”

       Her fondling continued, and she started nibbling on my neck. I was pulled around enough, so our lips met. She kissed me so passionately while rubbing my chest. My cock held me fast, and the handcuffs prevented me from taking her in my arms. She was right, and I knew it. I wanted to feel her whips. I could hardly wait for the pain she was offering.

       Samantha’s tongue probed beyond my lips, and she rubbed my blood-filled cock. It throbbed with lust as more blood poured through my veins. Then she stopped. “Tonight you will be tested. You are going to feel more pain than you’ve ever felt before. You will hate yourself for coming here very soon, I promise. I want you to realize that as my slave, there is only one thing that your pecker is good for. That, my handsome lover, is giving ME pleasure. ME, not you! Tonight that pleasure comes from my little whip.”

       Without another word, she raised her arm above her head. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth tightly together. I thought I knew what was coming. I heard the swish of leather in front of me, but there was no way that I could have anticipated the next moment of time.

       The cruel fingers of agony clenched my captured cock. A death-defying scream was muffled by her panties that still filled my mouth. Nine black leather thongs left nine fiery red welts along my trapped pecker. In thoughtless reaction, I pulled back from the butcher block, causing a new pain to my tortured manhood. The thin nylon noose kept its strangle hold on my most sensitive and stricken member.

 


 

Samantha's Slave by Patrick Richards
Reviewed by Dub Parker

This is the first book by Mr. Richards that I’ve read.  I really like it!  This is the story of Jack, who has always longed for a life of servitude.  Since his youth, he has longed for a mistress who would control him completely and ruthlessly.  In desperation, he finally took out an ad in the local newspaper.  That led to his initial encounter with Mistress Samantha.  From the very first moment, she took control and began pushing him to and beyond his limits.  She uses control, bondage, punishment, and humiliation to lead him further and further along the road toward complete capitulation. Over the next year, he willingly becomes more and more ensnared in her charming but dangerous web.  Finally, as the year nears its end, she gives him an ultimatum: Become my complete slave forever, or leave and never see me again. What will he choose?  Is he really ready to give up everything; his life, his business, even his orgasm?  How will he live with himself if he refuses? 

If you like stories with lots of painful bondage and sexual torture, you’ll enjoy this book.  If you like stories of chastity control while the male is expected to constantly orally service his mistress and anyone else she chooses, you’ll love this book.  If you like stories where the mistress completely controls and dominates her slave, who is nothing more than an article of property, you’ll definitely want to add this to your favorites list. I know I certainly will.  I can’t wait to read another Patrick Richards story.

 




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