Michou's Secret Garden 

24 hours with my Master

 

The second time, we met at the bar of a large hotel, close to the Gay Village:

The first time we met (see ) was in the middle of the summer season, at a fetish club, in Montréal. When he first saw me, he thought I was a "genetic" girl and told me I had a sexy voice. A few minutes later, I was seated at his table, where I met his friend. When this friend left, he started to entertain me about domination and submission. After he told me he was only interested by women, he confessed that he was turned on by me and had a big hardon. A few minutes before we had planned to leave the club, he told me I could turn him on much more if I let him whip me, tied up on the bench, right in front of everybody, in the middle of the room. Later on, I felt sorry for that but I refused to do it because it would have been my first public whipping and because my buns and thighs were covered with unwanted body hair. I know it sounds ridiculous but that is the way I am.

Since the first time we met, we kept in touch exchanging emails. He asked me a lot of questions on my tastes and we decided that he would become my Master and I, his slave. After that, he started to pressure me so that we could meet as soon as possible. This is how, as soon as I became available, we decided to meet, on a Saturday afternoon, at the bar of a large hotel, close to the Montreal Gay Village.

Upon my arrival, before the barmaid comes to take my order, I sit at a table, on a far corner of the room. As usual for me, I am a little late and very nervous. Two groups of people are next to the table where I sit and I can easily follow their conversation. The bright lighting of the room does not help to calm me down also.

Before his arrival, my Master keeps me waiting for more than thirty minutes. As soon as we say hello, he tells me that he has rented a room in the hotel and asks me to go get the things he had asked me to bring, in my car which I left in the parking of the hotel. My training as his slave has just begun.

This is a very warm summer day. This is also the Gay Parade day and there are people all over the place. When I arrived in the room to meet him, I am sweating and already tired.

I do not even have the time to install my things when he orders me to take off my skirt and panties. Then, I must take off my blouse too. I feel humiliated to have to show myself, in that state of nakedness, so soon, in front of this man I only slightly know. I cannot refrain from thinking that the day has just begun and I have no idea what will happen to me next. But, I had given my word to let me be dominated and it is way too soon to walk away.

With only a few words said, for a few minutes, he makes me parade around the room. I just cannot understand why he does that. He told me that he is only interested by women and he makes me parade in front of him with my sex, which does not have any feminine characteristics, well in sight. My legs are shaking and I have great difficulties to walk steadily on my high heels, which, I must say, are not extremely high. I am afraid that anytime soon he will order me to put my clothes back on and send me home. But, it does not seem to be the way he planned? Instead, he orders me to kneel between his legs and starts a long speech on what he wants me to do during the time we will be together.

The following hours are used to teach me how to become a good slave: to keep my eyes low, to ask permission to speak, to serve wine, to go buy wine at the liquor store, to order a meal over the telephone and to pick it up at the restaurant, to sit with my legs well apart, to give him a bath, to have the body hair on my sex and around my anus shaven, ...

We have now spent almost seven hours together. I have accomplished all kind of submissive acts when he tells me that we are going out on the crowdest street of the Gay Village. Without hesitation, I put back on my panties and skirt. But my blouse is still wet and is unwearable. Looking at myself in the mirror, I almost panic. My makeup should be reapplied from the start and my hairdo is in a very bad state. But, my Master would not allow me the time nescessary to do that. So, in about ten minutes, I retouch my makeup and comb my hair as well as I can. Taking into account the warm weather outiside, I put on a white t-shirt which does not look too good on me but just fits for that kind of outing. For walking, I put on a pair of wedge heeled clear mules. He does not make any comments on my look but he lifts the hem of my skirt, orders me to take off my panties and shows me the way out.

Even at this time of the evening, the temperature outside is still very warm and the sidewalks are crowded. On our way, we see two or three very beautiful transvestites. They are a bit flashy but they have bodies to die for and it makes me feel jealous. I am even afraid my Master would leave me there and go away with them.

We have been walking for more than an hour, stopping here and there to watch people go by. Unfortunalely, my mules made big blisters on my feet. I bleed and I am in pain but I do my best not to let it be known by my Master. When he makes a sign for me to follow him in a café where a table has just been freed, I feel relieved.

When he allows me to sit, he tells me to do it the same way as "O", in the movie "The Story of O". In the beginning, I do not understand what he means by that but, soon after, I remember that it means that I must lift up the back of my skirt in order to sit directly on my naked buns. I refuse to do it and, instead, I take good care to smooth the back of my skirt in order to sit on it. His eyes look like guns but he does not say a word. When I had taken notice that there were numerous other clients seated pretty close to our table, I froze and felt unable to take the chance to show not only my naked buns but also my sex.

Back to the hotel room, I feel unwilling to do it but he immediately orders me to get rid of all my clothes, including: corset, bra and even my high heels. I must also serve him a glass of wine before he orders me to clean a very large leather strap which looks rather impressive.

When he is satisfied with the cleaning of the strap, I must show him my wrists behind my back so that he can tie them up with large leather cuffs. Then, I am ordered to sit, with my legs kept wide apart, on a footstool which stands right in front of him.

For the next forty-five minutes he keeps telling me that I have not been a good slave and must be punished accordingly. He also gives me a recollection of all the things he had told me to do as his slave. It is rather humiliating. I am stark naked in front of him. I have been only allowed to put back a pair of high heels, after my feet had been cleaned.

As soon as he starts to notice that I am in pain for having been kept for such a long period of time with my arms behind my back, he unties me. He, then, orders me to caress his sex while he explains, in great details, the kind of punishment he will give me and how I must behave while receiving it.

During the time he tells me about my punishment, he gets a hardon which grows bigger and bigger. When I notice it, my reaction is almost unbelievable to me: I just want to sacrify myself so that he will grow bigger and I beg him to punish me right away.

He makes me kneel beside the bed and pushes the upper part of my body against the mattress so that my head rests on it.

I am more surprized than hurt when the leather strap hits my buns, for the first couple of times. The next two hits are truly painful. I do not scream but I wish I had been gagged and tightly bound. As an interlude, he makes me suck his penis. He is getting harder and harder.

The next bunch of hits of the leather strap are so painful to take that I cannot believe I do not scream or move. My buns are on fire and his penis becomes bigger and bigger. I then start to feel something I had never felt before and I beg him to hit me more.

He hits me harder and harder and, during that time, his sex gets harder too. I keep begging for more hits with the leather strap till he judges that I have enough.

When I come back to the footstool, my buns are so painful, I must take a lot of time before I can let them rest on it. But I am so happy to see him so proud of me. He is now very gentle with me and offers me a glass of wine.

For the next hour, we just relax while talking and emptying the bottle of wine. It is late and I feel tired. After I tell him so and without removing my makeup, I get onto the bed.

Pretty soon thereafter, when his glass of wine is empty, he shuts the lights to lay beside me. A few moments later, I start to feel his smooth hands on my body till he reaches my sex. I am on Cloud Nine. Never before a man made love to me so wonderfully.

The next morning, when I wake up, I make myself ready and bring all my belongings with me without waking him up. Before I leave the room, I write a little message which I leave on the table beside him.

Épilogue:

One week later, I can still see the distinct marks of the strap on my buns but, for my whole life, I will never forget the wonderful day I spent with that "gentle man" ...

A few weeks later, I was quite surprised to receive a new invitation to meet at a swinger's club (see ).

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Last update: October 30, 2001

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