Madame Maxine

by Victor Bruno

  As usual, I knelt by the door, head bowed, waiting for her orders. She lay naked on the couch, but for a pair of calf-length boots.

  “Come here, slave,” she ordered.

  As I must, I crawled like a dog to the side of the couch. The scent of her filled my nostrils. Despite her wanton cruelty to me, my heart turned over with delight at being in her presence.

  “Your training is taking a big step forward today, slave,” she said. “A big step forward.”

  My heart pounded as I waited. “Yes, Miss,” I said humbly.

  “As I told you,” she said, “we are proceeding step by step, as you learn to please me. However, this afternoon, we are going forward before stepping back again. Because I think it is time you showed your true respect... YOUR COMPLETE ABASEMENT... before your Mistress.”

  My heart pounded even more. What was she going to have me do? Dozens of erotic images flashed through my mind. I knew I would do anything she demanded. Of course I would!

  “You are, slave,” she continued in a sultry voice, “going to have the very great honour of kissing your Mistress’s bottom.”

  This time my heart seemed to turn over. I could scarcely ask for any greater honour! Oh how often I had gazed in adoration on those luscious curves of female flesh! And now... and now... I was to be permitted to show my devotion to them!

  “You will not touch it, merely kiss it,” she said.

  “Yes, Miss,” I said. reverently.

  “And you will not kiss my bottom as a whole, slave,” she went on, “but merely between the cleft of it. At the very heart of the cleft of it. Do you follow me?”

  I followed her only too well. Not for my lips the smooth softness of the lush white flesh. But simply her anus!

  Well, so be it. Even such a lowly, demeaning task was an honour for a slave. Yes! To be permitted such an intimacy, I told myself, was indeed a great honour.

  Slowly, voluptuously, Miss Dee rolled over on the couch. Then she positioned her belly on a pile of cushions so that her curvaceous bottom was thrusting up. It was a spectacle that made my heart turn over with joy. Like an acolyte before an alter, I knelt at the end of the couch, regarding it with a kind of mystic adoration.

  The long, lovely thighs parted. The whole of my Goddess’s divine being was fully displayed to me. I bowed my head in a kind of act of worship

  “Get your tongue in there, slave,” she said.

  Not where I would have wished of course, that would have been altogether too great an honour for such a lowly slave as myself. For me the other orifice was a more fitting object for attention.

  Carefully, I hoisted myself up, placing my hands on the edge of the couch. I must not touch her, just my tongue in the cleft. Straight to the very heart of the matter.

  The feminine scent of her filled me. My head literally seemed to reel. Perforce, my mouth must lightly touch her buttock flesh. I felt an incredible delight at that contact.

  Then my tongue thrust. My object was obtained.

  I began to kiss and lick with fervent adoration.

  From time to time, Miss Dee’s buttocks would give a little quivering shudder. Each one filled me with joy, for it told me I was pleasing her. And to please her was the paramount object of my existence. Occasionally, too, she would give a little moaning wriggle... and, I thought, utter a low moaning sigh.

  You can imagine what these reactions did for me, I was in a kind of Seventh Heaven.

  Does it sound strange to you that a man can reach such heights simply by tonguing the anus of his Mistress? Maybe it does. Possibly only a true masochist, which I had become, could be so overjoyed. I assure you, I was.

  “Get your tongue in, slave,” I heard her say, after what seemed an age of kissing and licking.

  My tongue and jaw already ached. But what of that? My divine Mistress had given a command I dare not disobey... and, indeed, was delighted to comply with.

  My tongue was thrust hard... and in.

  Miss Dee began to shudder and wriggle even more. The little sounds she made grew louder.

  Would she... could she... possibly come to a climax? I felt dizzy at the thought. To give my Mistress such pleasure was the very peak!

  I went on and on and on. Probing deep... probing deeper. Giving her, I sensed, just what she wanted. How long I nuzzled between that warm, scented cleft, I know not. Time ceased to have any meaning, I drowned in her flesh and her sensuality.

  At some point, there came a final, more prolonged shudder. Had I made her reach that peak? I do not know ...

  “That will do,” she said.

  I was knocked to the floor... and remained there, head bowed. It seemed a suitable place and posture for me after such a duty. Frankly too, I was glad that my tongue was at rest. Until that moment I had not realised to what lengths I had put it. My jaw, too, ached as if it had cramp in it. Quite possibly, I thought, even if my Mistress had wanted me to go on longer, I would have found it impossible.

  What would then have been my fate?

  Silence reigned. No doubt my Mistress was lying there in a relaxed kind of doze. I sincerely hoped so. Even more sincerely, I hoped I had pleased her as she wished. Certainly it had seemed so. Perhaps... who knew... there might even be some crumb of praise for me! Perhaps now, after such intimacy, she would permit me release!

  “Get out, slave,” I heard her say in those familiar contemptuous tones, she employed when addressing me.

  I was dismissed. My duty had been done. I had been used for her pleasure. Now I was cast out. Momentarily, as I crawled away from the couch, a bitterness filled me. Could her slave never earn her praise?

  But then, as I made my way down the passageway to my own room, a kind of exultation filled me.

  My Mistress had used me... and then treated me as I deserved!

  How dare I want, or imagine, she would do anything else?

  I was a miserable slave. Her slave... and, as such, she could dispose of me just as she wished.

  Frustrated as I was, I lay on the bed in a kind of dazed contentment. A few weeks before, it would have been impossible for me to imagine I would have been permitted to do what I had just done. That I would have been permitted such CLOSE INTIMACY.

  So was I not indeed a most fortunate slave?

  ***

  It was my duty to give my Mistress the same anal service every afternoon, for five days in all. Sometimes these sessions were more prolonged than others. In any event, at the end of them, my tongue and jaw had had more than enough... even though the muscles must have been strengthening every day.

  Miss Dee’s pleasure became more apparent as the days passed. Often her whole lovely bottom would quiver with prolonged spasms as I tongued deep.

  Oh what a joy to please her so!

  Moreover, I was aware that she achieved an orgasm. Of what strength, I could not be sure. But, at least, it was an orgasm of some kind. In truth, I could scarcely dare ask myself for more.

  I, her slave, was bringing my Mistress to orgasm!

  Nevertheless, despite my obvious competence for my duty, there was never a word of praise from Miss Dee. Always she dismissed me curtly at the end of a session... and I would have to crawl away back to my room.

  Then came the end of the five-day cycle. What now, I wondered? Surely, surely, she would show some merciful understanding of my inflamed emotions. I had endured a whole ten days on the edge of the cruelest frustration. Was that not enough? I did not care how severely she thrashed me ...if only... if only ...

  Miss Dee lay as usual on the couch. To my surprise, there was no cane in her hand. To my chagrin too. It must mean that I was still to be frustrated. Oh the agony of it!

  All the same, I knelt as humbly as ever at the side of the couch, striving to hide my hideous disappointment. There was a long silence.r />
  “You have performed your duties with some competence, slave,” said Miss Dee at last.

  My heart bounded joyfully!

  “That is fortunate for you,” she went on. “As you know, I should have shown no mercy if I had not been satisfied.”

  “Yes, Miss,” I answered, inclining my head. Oh this was praise... what more could I ask!

  “I trust,” she said, “that you will continue to give similar satisfaction as your training proceeds.”

  “Yes, Miss,” said I, with all the sincerity that filled my being.

  Then, to my infinite relief, I felt her bend forward and unlock the restrainer. The ‘rubber’ was tossed to me. I put it on. Already I was beginning to stiffen. I was almost in a frenzy of impatience to begin. Almost eagerly I awaited to hear her tell me to fetch the cane.

  But she did not. She seemed quite unhurried... eyeing me in a strange kind of possessive way. Well, I was her possession, after all. Steadily, without touching myself, I came to full erection.

  Then, to my amazement, she rolled over onto her belly, uplifting herself on the pile of cushions as she had done on the previous days.

  “A reward, slave,” she said. “No cane. But you will tongue me as usual. However, you will not seek relief until I give you permission.”

  My heart seemed to both soar and sink simultaneously. How could I possibly hold out while I tongued her so intimately?

  Yet I had to... I HAD to! Feeling my unrestrained organ swinging hard before me, I got down to my familiar crouching position and put my tongue to work.

  Soon Miss Dee was sighing and quivering as usual... and I was filled with delight at her pleasure. But the temptation to clasp my penis was well-nigh undeniable. Both my balls and my penis seemed to be aching with unslaked desire. I dare not even touch my organ because it seemed that even that simple act would make me unleash myself.

  So it went on and on and on ...

  A terrible kind of pleasure... an ecstatic kind of torment.

  At one point, I remember thinking, if she does not soon give the word, I think I shall lose my reason. If not that, I shall certainly lose control of my physical self. Only a life-time of iron disciplinary training made me hang on. It was not even a question of thinking about the punishment I would receive. That scarcely concerned me in the intensity of the moment. It was simply the in-bred training that did it.

  Then... at long last... at long, long last ...

  “Now, “ she said simply.

  At the same moment, her bottom began to quake and shudder, her haunches to jerk. She was coming in the strongest orgasm I had ever known.

  Wildly, my hand flew down ...

  I gripped. I lunged. Back and forth flew my hand. Once, twice... perhaps three or four times ...

  That was all. But it was sufficient. In seconds I spent myself violently, furiously, uncontrollably. And it seemed to go on and on, while I twisted, groaned and shuddered, my mouth pressed still to Miss Dee’s quivering bottom.

  How futile, you may say,to spend oneself in so short a time.

  Yet, believe me, in those brief moments, I think I knew more pleasure than I had experienced in all my sexual life!

  ***

  Later... it seemed much later... my restrainer was replaced and I was dismissed.

  Back in my room, I lay joyfully relaxed for the first time in days and days. My mind was full of images. My adoration for my divine Mistress was even greater.

  I could but look forward eagerly to the next step in my training.

  Chapter 10

  Miss Dee was right about my taking a great step forward... followed by several steps backward. For I was consigned to far less intimate roles in the days and weeks that lay ahead.

  Every afternoon that I attended her, she would map out a small area of the flesh of her body... say something like six inches square. It might be on her calf, her thigh, her back, her shoulder. That would be the area I would have to concentrate my mouth upon. Kissing and licking it with the utmost devotion, just as I had done with her toes at the outset.

  As usual, Miss Dee would lie there naked while I went about my duties. Or, my training, as she termed it.

  How often I longed to be given a more intimate task! To be permitted to return to her anus, for example, would have been a most wonderful privilege. But no, area by area, I covered the whole of that divine body, showing it the utmost servile devotion that I possibly could.

  Deliberately, I suppose, Miss Dee had a strange way about allowing me relief. There were time when I would go five or six aching days without it. Then, perversely, she might make me masturbate two or even three times in front of her in the course of a day.

  There was no knowing what the pattern was to be and, as a result,I was kept in a state of nervous tension.

  I recall one of the times she made me masturbate three times in fairly quick succession, quite vividly.

  As I entered and crawled to her, she at once unlocked my restrainer and tossed me a ‘rubber’. Quickly I put it on. This was most unusual.

  “Toss yourself off,” she ordered briskly.

  I began to do so at once, while she regarded me with contemptuous disdain. Such was the look in her eyes that I averted mine.

  “Look at me,” she commanded at once.

  I turned my eyes back... forced to face her contempt as my hand worked ever faster and my features thickened with lust.

  “You are quite disgusting, aren’t you?” she remarked as I was approaching a climax.

  “Yes... M-Miss... yes... “ I gasped.

  But by then, I didn’t care whether I was disgusting or not. I didn’t care about anything but the fires of lust which were raging trough me as I gazed upon her superb nudity.

  “Oh Miss... oh Miss ...” I cried out as I came to a violent climax, “Oh Miss .. I adore you ...”

  I remember how her eyebrows went up high as I spent myself, twisting down to the floor.

  “Really!” she said with the utmost disdain.

  After that was all over, I was ordered to concentrate my mouth on an area of her belly just above the soft bush of her pubic hairs. It was a most taunting and tempting area and I felt truly slavish as I kissed and kissed it.

  Miss Dee had not put my restrainer on and, after about half an hour or so, the inevitable happened.

  I found myself in solid erection again!

  “You are a disgusting animal,” she said regarding me through slit eyes. “Have you no control over yourself at all?”

  “I... I... beg pardon, M-Miss,” was all I could say, feeling the dread creeping into my vitals.

  I knew the sort of look she was giving me all too well.

  “Beg pardon?” she snapped. “What’s the good of that? You still lack discipline, slave.”

  “I... I simply can’t help it, Miss,” I almost wailed. That was true. She just didn’t know what affect her marvellous body could have on a young man.

  “You’ll learn to help it,” she said. “You’ll learn to get an erection when I want it. That’s what true discipline means.”

  How could I possibly reach such a state of training, I wondered. Would it be humanely possible? Certainly I doubted it. Yet, such was the power of Miss Dee’s will, and the tenacity of her training methods, frankly, I could put nothing beyond her!

  “You’re not showing devotion,” she said. “You’re simply lusting after me.”

  “N-No... no... Miss ...” I began.

  Her hand smashed across my face. Once, twice. Left and right. Then again. Left and right. Bells rang in my ears.

  “Don’t lie!” she half snarled. “Admit it ...”

  “I’m sorry M-Miss ...”

  Two more smashing slaps ...

  “Admit it ...”

 
“Yes... yes... Miss... and I’m sorry Miss... I... I’m only a man ...”

  “A man!” Miss Dee laughed. “You’re still nothing more than a feeble youth and I’m going to prove it to you.”

  Another ‘rubber’ thrown was to me. Automatically I pulled it over my swollen organ. Miss Dee got off her couch and strode to a cupboard. Dread began to fill me... and increased when I saw her returning not with the customary cane, but with a leather riding crop.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” she ordered crisply.

  I did so at once, feeling my nates twitch with dread. That crop looked far worse than any cane.

  “Start tossing,” she ordered.

  I did so... and was allowed about ten seconds without interruption. Then the riding crop came whistling down and cracked agonisingly across my rump. A howl of pain burst from me... and involuntarily my hand ceased its movement.

  “Keep tossing,” she insisted.

  I had to begin again. But the pain of the weal she had raised far outweighed any pleasure I was receiving.

  Ccrraaa... aaaccckkkk!

  It came again. Robbing me of breath, robbing me of reason. Never could I recall her using such a painful instrument upon me.

  I howled again... begging her for mercy.

  “Keep tossing,” was all she said, in that relentless way of hers. “And keep your bottom up.”

  For obvious reasons, my rear was twisting away in dread anticipation .. yet somehow I forced it up again.

  “M-Mercy... M-Miss ...” I found myself whimpering, my nates clenching violently again.

  “I told you you were a feeble youth... not a man,” she said derisively.

  That criticism burnt like a brand within me. But how could I deny the truth of it? Desperately I sought to get a better control of myself... to show her that I was a man.