This weeks RELEASE ---- file---silly, not a permission to "release". ***giggles***

You will OBEY!

Brainwashed Phase 2 Part 7-----a MANDATORY file----you do not need to know the content---you will listen because I COMMAND it.  LISTEN 7 days ---- at least 1 time daily, because I say.

For your OBEDIENCE --- I give you MY sexy story---WRITTEN BY ME---

The thing about a door is that you never know what’s behind it. As I stood in the hallway of the luxury condominium complex, I wondered what this particular door was hiding. The idea that this was the address of a dominitrix’s abode was almost absurd. The lobby and hallways of the condo building were exquisitely decorated with expensive carpeting, wood finish and ornate fixtures. This was the homestead of upper class families and socialites, the last place one would expect to find a BDSM dungeon.

Months before, I would never have even considered the possibility of participating in BDSM. Perhaps it was curiosity that led me to this place. Perhaps it was knowing that dominatrices are not prostitutes and without intercourse I was not cheating on my wife or risking my health. Whatever the reason, here I was standing ready to try a different type of sexual experience.

After taking a deep breath, I rang the bell. A stunning women opened the door. I had viewed her portfolio online, but their images paled in comparison to meeting Mistress X in person. She was gorgeous. Her curly, long, flaming red hair accentuated her bright green eyes. Her high cheek bones, sensuous strawberry lips and soft pale skin were the epitome of beauty.

Wrapped around her was a black satin gown. It flowed seamlessly down the length of her athletic figure and gracefully draped to the floor. Like the studio’s entrance, I suspected the robe also concealed its secrets. The black arm-length gloves she wore hinted at the sexy ensemble underneath.

“You must be Michael” she said cheerfully. Her warm smile was almost hypnotic, it was not difficult to understand why men flocked to her. “Please, come in,” she welcomed me inside.

She gestured to a closet and offered for me to hang up my coat and remove my shoes. The interior of the condo-apartment was surprisingly normal. I had expected to see all types of torturing devices and equipment. Instead, the flat was tastefully furnished with a stylish décor.

At first glance, it appeared to be a bachelor apartment with a quaint kitchenette and living area. A short hall lead to the bedroom and bathroom. It wasn’t until I had entered the living room did I notice the closed red door on the far wall. A chill of anticipation ran through my body as I considered where it led.

When she noticed me staring at the ominous red portal, she laughed and said “All in good time! Would you care for something to drink?”

Being new to this whole experience, I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. This woman was being considerate and kind. Also, her mannerisms seemed to be quite jovial and light-hearted. Wasn’t this atypical of this profession? “No, thank you,” I replied trying to be as respectful as possible.

She nodded and generously invited me to sit down. I’m sure she recognized my naivety, especially since I sat perched nervously on the edge of the wingback chair.

She sat down on the adjacent love-seat and casually crossed her legs. This motion caused the lower portion of her gown to slightly open, exposing her knee-high black leather stiletto boots.

“Before we begin”, she said calmly, “I like getting financial matters out of the way. I believe you have something for me.” I removed the envelope of cash containing our prearranged amount from my pocket and handed to her.

“Thank you” she said appreciatively. “For future sessions you can just leave your donation on the hall table.”

“You said you were new to the genre; you need to know the rules,” She paused for effect. “First, I am not an escort, there will be no sex during our sessions. If you want a whore, there’s the door,” she pointed to the exit.

“I understand,” I explained, “I know that –“

“Second!” she cut me off in mid-sentence. “You will address me as ‘Mistress’ when you speak to me, do I make myself clear?” she stated authoritatively, and picked up a riding crop that was leaning against the end table.

Taken aback by the change in her demeanor, I said “I’m sorry, Mistress,” emphasizing the word, “I did not mean any dis–”

“Third!” she smacked the crop down hard onto the Mahoney coffee table that was situated between us. “I abhor men who babble and stifle on their words! You will respond to my questions with only four appropriate phrases; one, ‘Yes Mistress’; two, ‘No Mistress’; three, ‘I don’t know, Mistress’; and four, ‘Thank you Mistress” She exemplified each phrase by counting them with the fingers of her left hand. “Do I make myself clear?” she asked.

“Crystal”, I said. I didn’t even have time to flinch before the sting of her crop assaulted my left knee.

“Obviously not,” she said with a whimsical smile. “Shall I ask again? Do you understand?”

I recoiled like a wounded animal and meekly replied “Yes, Mistress.”

She smiled, again with that hypnotic effect, stood up and beckoned me to follow her. She stood in front of the mysterious red door. She looked expectantly at me, finally rolling her eyes in disgust, “Do you expect me to open it myself? Is chivalry that dead?”

I jumped to attention and grabbed the handle, “No Mistress!” Keeping within her parameters of communication. “Thank you, Mistress,” I said as I pulled the door open.

In comparison to its initial surroundings, the area beyond this threshold emphasized the studio’s schizophrenic nature. This area was reminiscent of a small gym, mirrors lined every wall, black exercise matting covered the floors, and instead of workout and weight training stations stood different types of restraining apparatus. The absence of natural light, blocked by the tightly shut blinds, gave the room a dark and sinister appearance.

As I entered the room, Mistress turned around quickly and stopped me from advancing by putting her palm on my chest. “You are not ready to fully enter,” she explained. I looked at her inquisitively, but said nothing.

She disrobed, finally revealing the lingerie I was so desperately anticipating. A tight fitting lace up black corset highlighted her flawless physique. Its front laces were set loosely enough to glimpse her beautiful round breasts. Black garter nylons shaped her thighs, and ran down her legs into her leather boots.

My heart pounded as I became unexpectedly aroused. I could not understand my intense attraction towards this woman. She had a presence that I had never encountered before in any of my other relationships. “This is ludicrous,” I thought, “I was not some horny teenager that couldn’t contain himself. I was a grown man in my forties and not a stranger to sex. Why was I acting so immaturely?”

“Now,” she said. “It’s your turn. Take your clothes off and leave them over there,” she instructed and pointed to a small bench behind me to the right of the entrance.

I felt uncomfortable, almost embarrassed, as I unbuttoned and removed my shirt. Such an intimate exchange would normally be mutual, there would be passion while clothing was carelessly discarded. This encounter had more of a clinical atmosphere, but instead of offering privacy while I undressed, she watched me intensely. Impatient of my progress, she occasionally tapped me with her crop and instructed me to hurry. Within minutes, I stood naked before her.

Striding around me, like an equestrian inspecting a new steed, she scrutinized my body. As she traced her gloved finger down my back and shoulders, I became self-consciously aware of my flaws and lowered my eyes to the floor. I was not obese, but my indulgence of rich food, fine wine, and imported beer combined with my long absence from the gym had cultivated a small belly and love handles.

She faced me, her hands clasped behind her back, and grinned seemingly satisfied with my stature. She leaned closer to me, I could smell the intoxicating scent of her perfume. “I have something for you” she whispered and presented a pink neck collar. I had been so distracted by my own discomfort that I had not seen where she had obtained this item.

“Kneel!” she commanded, simultaneously slapping me the crop across my buttocks. I obeyed instantly.

“Good boy,” she complimented. After she had fastened the collar around my neck, I was told to stand up and was escorted to a full-length mirror. “This is your crown of servitude to me, you will wear it in all our sessions,” she explained.

I regarded myself in the mirror; I looked ridiculous. I had to make a decision. Being submissive to this woman was just a game. The question was did I want to continue to play. Part of me had had enough, I was ready to rip off the stupid collar and walk out. However, the other part was intrigued about how far down the rabbit hole I could go.

Mistress X appeared to read my expression and recognize my internal struggle. She slowly drew circles on my back with her fingers until my muscles started to relax. Her arms slid over my shoulders and reached around me gently stroked my chest. Pressing herself against me from behind, she whispered in my ear “We could have a lot of fun together.” She played with my nipples, I could feel her hot breath on my neck. “I could offer you so much pleasure, if you just submit to me.”

Her touch was exhilarating, sending chills up my spine. I felt myself grow hard as her satin gloved hand moved smoothly down my torso. “Isn’t that what you came here for; to find pleasure in serving me?” She hand continued down between my legs. All you have to do, is tell me you like your collar.” I felt her caress my erection and a wave of euphoria swept over me. “If you serve me and obey my commands, I will cater to your darkest desires.”

All my sensations enhanced as she slowly stroked me, I was almost at the point of orgasm when she asked, “Michael, do you like your collar?”

Without hesitation I found myself exclaiming, “Yes Mistress!”

With my answer she stopped her advances. Putting her hands on my shoulder and guided me to face her. “And will you surrender to my will. Obeying my every command?”

I considered her question. “If that was just a taste of what was to come, what was the harm in playing along?” I thought. “This whole domination thing was a breeze, she does all the work and I reap the benefits – no problem. I’d be the best damned slave she ever had.”

“Yes, Mistress” I said lowering my gaze.

Excruciating pain shot through my body, and I crumbled like a ragdoll to the floor. Stars of faintness consumed my vision, a ringing sound filled my ears, and I had a hard time breathing. I heard Mistress X’s voice echoing in the distance, “That was for doubting my authority over you.”

Although I heard her words, in my current state their meaning was incomprehensible. When my head started to clear and my breathing started to ease, I realized what had happened. I had just committed to serving her when she seized my shoulders and with great force kneed me in the groin.

As I gradually regain my senses, I realized that I was on my knees curled into a ball with my forehead on the floor. With a strenuous effort I tried to stand up. Immediately, Mistress thwarted my attempt by placing her foot on by neck. “You are not permitted to stand!” she said sternly.

Fear of any retribution, I refrained from moving. It was then that I noticed that my hands were tied behind my back and that something was in my mouth stopping me from talking. Apparently, I had been incoherent long enough for her to gag and bind me.

I became overwhelmed with panic. This role-playing game had changed to something dangerous. I was completely at her mercy!

She bent down and spoke softly to me, “From now on, when you enter this room, you will remove your clothes, put on your collar and bow down in worship. You will stay in that position until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?”

I tried to answer, but all that I could muster was a muffle.

“I own you now,” she stated. “You are my puppet, I pull your strings at my leisure.” She yanked on a leash she was holding and I felt the collar pull me forward. “Get up!” she commanded.

Using all the strength in my legs, I hoisted myself into standing. Mistress dragged me by the collar onto what looked like an examination table, it had stirrups attached to one end. She instructed me to place my feet into the supports and proceeded to strap me down. A metal trolley sat beside the table, on it there were lotions, towels, and of course, a leather paddle.

Consumed by terror, I laid helplessly on the table. I perspired from fatigue, my muscles ached, and the bonds pinched my wrists and ankles. Her last attack had left me weak and docile.

“We have time for one more lesson, Michael” she said. “Do you know what it is?” she asked teasingly. I shook my head in reply.

“I control your sex,” she stated. I looked at her perplexed. “You will learn to respond to my commands. I control your erections. I control you orgasms. You release when I tell you,” she said seductively.

At some point during our session she had removed her black gloves. She put on a pair of medical rubber gloves acquired from the metal trolley. Picking up a lotion bottle, she poured lubricant over my groin. Carefully, she once again, caressed my penis. “You are not allowed to cum, until I permit it,” she indicated.

“That would be easy,” I thought. “I definitely was not in the mood.” However, she was patient and persistent. She placed more lubricant around my anus, gradually sliding her finger into it. Simultaneously she massaged my prostate and fondling me, making me hard. With each stroke she spoke to me tenderly, repeating, “That’s right, relax and surrender to me. Remember, you cannot cum until I allow you.”

Before long I was on the brink of orgasm and tried desperately not to ejaculate. Being muzzled, I was unable to communicate to her to stop. She was relentless, she continued until finally I lost total control.

She looked at me crossly. Taking a towel from the trolley, she wiped off the seaman from my torso. Maybe I was safe. Maybe she would be lenient.

Mistress removed and discarded her rubber gloves. Lifting my semi-erect penis, she batted my exposed testicles with the leather paddle “I told you not to do that without my permission!” Instantly, pain assaulted my body and I tears ran down my cheeks.

“Shall we try this again,” she asked rhetorically. I shook my head in protest, which she promptly ignored. Reaching under the table she produced a jug of ice water and emptied its contents onto my genitals. Toweling me off, she again started the process.

The ending of this attempt, however, was different. This time she read my body language and stopped before I reached climax. “Good boy”, she said.

“I think that is enough for today,” she proclaimed and quickly released me from my restraints. The blood rushed back into my numbed limbs. “When you’re ready, you can take a shower in the other room and get dressed,” she announced.

I felt revitalize after the hot shower. Emerging from the bathroom fully dressed, I saw Mistress sitting in the lounge. Anxious to leave, I hurriedly said, “Thank you Mistress. Goodbye Mistress.”

“Wait!” she bellowed. “The session is not over yet. Sit down!”

I now knew better than to disobey her and took my place into the wingback chair.

“We need to review what you have learned today. During this part of the session, I give you permission to speak candidly. So tell me, Michael, what have you learned?”

My intent was to never return, but not knowing how she would react, I decided to tell her what she wanted. “Mistress, I learned that you are in control. That you control my sexual pleasure.”

She smiled, replying “And…”

“And…” I hesitated. “That when our sessions begin, I am to remove all my clothing, put on my collar and bow to you.” I then added “I like my collar.”

“What else have you learned, slave?” she asked.

I thought for a moment and replied, “I am to address you as Mistress. I am to answer you with only four phrase, unless instructed differently.”

“Excellent!” she commended. “I think that you will be a good piece to my collection. Once you are trained properly.”

“Thank you, Mistress” I said, while thinking “Fat chance.”

“Your training period will begin immediately, I will see you once a week over the next five weeks,” she said a-matter-of-factly.

“Mistress,” I protested. “With all due respect to you, I cannot afford to spend that much money.”

“Did I say anything about money?” she asked angrily. “We can deal with donations later. For now, I want you to become my perfect slave. Consider it a gift, a gift from your master.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said, once again thinking “Not in your lifetime, sweetheart.”

“May I go now, Mistress” I asked politely.

“Yes, slave you can go. But first I need something from you.”

“Anything Mistress,” I really wanted to leave.

“Your wedding band,” she commanded and put out her cupped hand.

“What –” I started to say disapprovingly.

“What better way to ensure your return?”

From that day forward, I was Mistress X’s faithful servant.  After the five weeks of training, she returned my wedding ring, but by then I was whole-heartedly under her control.  The explanation of how such devotion was earned is another story.

My special deals ---