Mz Anna Book Preview

The Household

Chapter 1

Fantasy Laced with Reality

by Mz Anna

William entered the house from the garage. He set two heavy grocery bags on
the kitchen floor. Topper, a jet-black alley cat with an attitude, rubbed alternatively
between the bags and Williams's legs, purring with delight. As William stood,
the intercom sounded of splashing water. He walked out of the kitchen and down
the hall to the Mistress' bedroom. The bathroom door was ajar. He could see
the flicker of a candle as he peeked through the small crack. Again, the sound
of water trickling. He smiled.

Gently, he rapped on the door and began to slowly push it open. "May I
come in?" He did not wait for an answer as the open door was his permission
to enter the bathroom. Mary smiled at the sight his eager face. She extended
a water-soaked sea sponge to him. He knelt by the tub of steaming water and
the sweet, mild, aroma of lavender waffled into his nostrils. As he accepted
the sponge from her glistening hand, he kissed her fingertips. The way her lips
formed a small, almost invisible, smile gave him additional reassurance of welcome.

Kneeling at her back, William dipped the sponge into the hot, scented water.
He brought it up to her neck and slowly squeezed. Water and wet skin met. The
water trickled down her back as he moved the sponge from left to right over
her shoulders. She lowered her head slightly as he refilled the sponge with
steaming water. He allowed the water to trill from the nape of her neck down
her spine. "That's nice."

She took the bar of black soap and lathered in onto a fluffy washcloth and
washed her face as he continued to entertain her back with streams of silky
water. She rinsed her face of soap as William reached for the loofa and body
wash. Her skin glistened from the bath oil in the water; candle light gave the
room a warm glow. He poured a bit of body wash onto the loofa and dipped it
into the water. She extended her left arm and he began to gently wash her slender
limb. The loofa traveled slowly over her body leaving tiny white bubbles in
its wake. He washed her with the same care a mother would use in caring for
her tiny new baby. Tenderly. Gently. Lovingly moving over her delicate skin.
After washing her arms, he began to soap her back. "Oh, for goodness sake,
harder, William."

She had her head bent as far forward as possible and her shoulders curved inward.
As he began to increase the pressure of circular strokes with the loofa, he
was aware of low moans of pleasure and relaxation. He increased his pressure
and smiled, satisfied, knowing he was pleasing his pretty Mistress. The Mistress
he worshiped.

Bathing continued until the water was tepid. Each participant was basking in
the heat of their roles; hers to enjoy, his to give, pleasure. He had massaged
her breasts, stroked her loins, caressed her genitalia, kissed her feet, sucked
her toes. If nothing else, William was anal retentive when it came to his duties
in the bath!

Even with his tender loving care and attentiveness, he felt as if he had omitted
something. Yes, even as she was basking in the warmth of his service, he knew
she would find something he had forgotten, some tidbit he had overlooked, some
cause for concern and correction. As the sleeves of his shirt became soaked,
his concentration returned to her. She stood; he released the water from the
tub. He turned on the shower making sure the spray did not touch her body until
it was the right temperature. Hot. She disliked cold water almost as she disliked
cold or tepid people. Passion and heat had to be in anything, anyone, around
her.

When the water was sufficiently hot to his hand, he ran the shower spray over
her body from the neck down to her toes. She spread her long legs and he cleansed
between them making sure the hot water bathed her clitoris and inner lips. He
turned the water onto a pulsating action and placed the nozzle over here vaginal
opening. She reached her hand over to his chest and pinched his right nipple.
The more pleasure she received, the harder she pinched him. As he moaned in
pain, she smiled in pleasure. "Enough."

When he heard that one word, William turned the water off; she pinched his
nipple harder and released quickly. "Good, very good, pet."

He held her towel for her as she stepped from the tub enclosure. As she stood,
he patted her soft skin until she was completely dry. Using the scented bath
powder and a large puff, he dashed powder over her body. "Come with me."
Quickly putting away the puff and hanging the towel, William followed his Mistress
as she walked, naked, into her bedroom. The bedroom they shared. He was permitted
to sleep there, but each knew it was her room. He had what she called a "sissy
room" that was his and contained his cross-dressing wardrobe. "Take
off your clothes, William. And do it quickly." Her tone was icy.

His mind raced. He knew. Suddenly he knew what he had done wrong! The bath had
been perfect but he knew his mistake and it was a major transgression. "How
could I have been so stupid?"

Without a mutter or sigh, William removed his clothes shirt, pants,
shoes. They stayed where they fell. He stood, naked, with his head bowed, hands
by his side. "You know what you did, don't you, William?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Tell me."

"I think I know, Mistress. I wore clothes during your bath, Ma'am."

"Yes, and for that, William, you will be punished. I doubt if you make
the same mistake in the future, my sweetest pet. Mistress doesn't like to spank
her sissy-boy, but he has to learn his lessons properly, doesn't he, pet?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She walked out of the bedroom, down the hall into her private dungeon as William
meekly followed. She stopped beside the spanking bench he had constructed to
her specifications. It was a regular saw horse design. The horizontal beam was
a two-inch by twelve-inch board covered with thick padding and topped with slick
black leather. The legs were painted with a shinny black lacquer. The legs were
of such a height that he had but to bend over and his chest was over the top
of the spanking bench.

He spread his legs to match the legs of the bench, bent over, allowing his
hands to fall freely. Without a word she began her discipline. Cuffs of heavy
leather were placed on his ankles and attached to D-rings on the back legs of
the bench. Matching sets of cuffs was fastened to his wrists and then were attached
to D-rings placed appropriately on the bench's front legs. Velcro belts secured
him to the bench at the waist, mid-thigh, and around each arm. Moving from his
designated position was not an issue.

Mary slowly walked around the bound William. She stroked his back muscles,
moved her hands down his torso to his buttocks. Her hands glided over him. Her
fingers acted as a second set of eyes. She examined every muscle of his thighs.
Feeling for knots, looking for marks of any kind.

"Are you comfortable, pet?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She checked his restraints for security and comfort. Her fingertips had the
touch of velvet as she moved up his body towards his shoulders. She pressed
herself against him as she leaned to whisper in his ear.

"Mistress isn't going to hurt you for the sake of hurting you, baby. Mistress
wants you to be the best you can be. You know the rules, my sweetest pet, and
when you don't obey the rules, you will be punished. Mistress wants her boy
to be the best he can be. You are an example to the others; pet, and you must
be the best. Mistress loves her boy but won't take second best." She moved
to the front of the spanking bench, lifted his head by the chin, bend down and
kissed his forehead, his eyebrows, his eye lids, the tip of his nose and finally,
placed her lips to his in a tender, loving kiss.

Mary then placed a hand on each of his shoulders and ran then down his arms.
He was a strong man. Firm, well built. He had muscles, grit, and spirit. He
was a beautiful man ... easy on the eyes. He was an intelligent person, brain
and brawn in one body. Her power over William was not from the strength in her
own petite body but from his submitting his mind to hers. She owned him. She
treasured him. She loved him enough to correct him.

Satisfied with his position and the restraints, she again kissed him. "Patience
is something we all have to work at, pet. You were impatient. Assisting me in
my bath caused you to forget the rules. That's not acceptable. You will learn
patience. You will learn to follow the rules. Your haste will cost you dearly,
pet."

He uttered not a sound, not a word. She had not asked him a question. From
past experiences, William knew that no answer was the only response she wanted.
Or expected.

She walked out of his range of vision. He strained to hear her feet as she
walked across the hardwood floor. "Yes oh god," he thought, "she
is almost ready to start." His heart pounding, his breath controlled, his
anxiety level escalating, he waited in silence. "Teach me patience, Mistress.
Mistress loves me. Mistress won't hurt me. I was bad. I didn't obey Mistress.
God oh god I shouldn't be thinking. Stop thinking. Oh god. Stop
Thinking! I am yours. I am yours. Yours "

Click Click Click He heard the sound of the spike high heels she had placed
on her small feet. When she stood in front of him again, he saw that she had
dressed in a black. She wore a leather vest, very short leather skirt, nylons
and heels. Around her neck was a gold necklace with a large center featuring
an intricate design. His heart sank. This was her 'don't fuck with me' necklace.
He knew this mornings' session was not going to be merely a warning. After today
he knew he would remember the lesson of patience for a long time to come.

"Before we begin, sweetest pet, do you have any questions for me?"

"No, Mistress."

"You know why I'm punishing you?"

"Yes, Mistress"

"Why?"

"Because I was impatient and wore clothes as I assisted you in your bath,
Mistress."

"What is our safe word, pet?"

"Our safe word is 'stop,' Mistress."

"Good boy. I would say this is going to hurt me worse than you, but that
would be a lie, wouldn't it, pet?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Having finished their pre-session ritual, she gently placed a blindfold over
his eyes making sure it was placed properly over his head. The last thing she
wanted was for him to feel discomfort from a blindfold as that would distract
from the sensations she was about to deliver.

His world was now black. He saw nothing. His sense of hearing seemed to triple.
His own breath was like an echo that went on forever. He was aware of his body;
the way his legs felt against the hard wood, his cock against the frame, and
his chest on the leather. He shivered slightly. In all this, his mind was blank
except for physical feelings. He was not afraid. He was excited. Pensive, but
sexually excited! He felt his cock begin to harden.

Mary glanced at the clock. She walked to his left side, dragging the nails
of her left hand down his body. She rubbed his cool, bare bottom. Goose bumps
appeared. She smiled. She began to rub his ass with her hands and the goose
bumps multiplied. She slapped his left cheek with a feather light touch. Again.
Again and again. Then she rubbed the slightly reddened cheek and once more volleyed
slaps over his ass.

She enjoyed the sting on her palm. Knowing his cheek was beginning to sting
as well, she slapped one last time, harder, and without lifting her hand she
slid to his right side. Using her left hand to firm his flesh, Mary began to
lightly tap his right cheek as she had done to his left. Each stroke was more
forceful. Firm. Powerful. She snapped her wrist back with each POP and saw him
flex. She smiled.

Right cheek. Left cheek. Left. Left. Right right ... right left
each stroke harder harder right right right left
left left harder harder harder. She could see the rosy red glow that
was beginning to take shape on his bottom; feel the warm glow on her palm. Right
cheek. Left cheek. Left. Left. Right right ... right left
each stroke harder harder right right right left left left
harder harder harder.

She took another peek at the clock as her palm once again connected with flesh.
Twenty-seven minutes had passes since her first stroke. It seemed like seconds.
She grubbed his rosy red butt gently and muttered soothing words to her William.
Her hands were as warm as his bottom. She bent and placed her lips gently on
the reddest glow.

Mary walked to the carafe of fresh water on a table near the open door; she
poured a few drops into a small paper cup. The table held only the carafe, a
freshly filled ice bucket, several hand towels, and notebook size leather bound
zippered case. The case contained precision medical instruments. William had
recently given her the set as a surprise un-birthday present. Her hand caressed
the case for an instant. She returned to her restrained and blindfolded slave
with only the water.

William had small beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. Having been the
one to arrange the table, he knew every item by heart. He vividly remembered
each tool in the medical kit. He could almost feel the cold steel against his
skin. He shivered and his body trembled.

Mary held the cup in her right hand as she gently lifted his chin with her
left. She tilted the cup to his dry lips. He let out a deep breath. She wondered
what his mental images had been as he was restrained, alone and naked, on the
bench. She smiled when she saw the sweat on his face. She placed the cup to
his parched lips.

"Let your fears be your demons, sweetheart," she thought.

William sucked the cold liquid onto his tongue. Experience had taught him there
would be enough water to moisten his mouth but not quench his thirst.

Silence. Total silence. No music, no one breathing beside him, no motion in
the room. Still, dreadful, silence filled his ears. He inhaled deeply trying
to catch a whiff of her scent. Nothing. He strained his ears, cocking his head
from one side to the other. His muscles pulled at their restraints. Every minute
seemed like five. Alone. Tied. Naked. Total darkness. His brain conjured nothing
but the eternal silence.

Ten minutes passed before Mary rose leisurely from her overstuffed chair. On
stocking feet she sauntered silently across the room to her pet. In her hand
she caressed several yards of soft black silky material. In a flourish, she
draped the smooth silk over his body from head to toe. It was pulled, sensually,
from his nakedness and chills ran up his spine as he felt the feather-light
touch of its movement.

William did not know if he was more pleased at the sensation of the cloth or
at the knowledge she was beside him. Perhaps the combination of both caused
him to tremble. Could it be he would received his punishment in full?

Her soft hands were once again touching the skin in the small of his back and
traveling down his body. Down, around his side and around to top of his legs.
Her fingers probed and prodded. His hard cock was there for her pleasures and
he knew she enjoyed torturing it. The fingers of her right hand curled around
him. He felt sweet strokes as she moved her hand gently up and down his cock.




Her fingers captured a large drop of pre-cum. Mary used his pre-cum to lubricate
the pulsing cock. More was then collected for his lips.

It was her cock. She owned him. She owned the cock he wore for her pleasure.
How many times had she touched him? How many times had she lit a fire in his
groin? Each time was the first time. Each time she took him, he was once again
a virgin.

As his blood continued to rush to his loins, William's mind went blank. Sensations
were his world. The feel of the stiff spanking bench against his chest and legs,
the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, and the blindfold were his to bear for his
reward; her touch.

He felt cold leather against his bare bottom.

"What's this, pet?"

".the strap."

"Are you okay my sweetest baby?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You didn't make a sound when I was out of the room, did you, pet?"

"No, Ma'am, but it wasn't easy, Ma'am."

"I know, little one, but you did very well."

She rubbed the leather spanking strap across his ass. The cool leather felt
nice. She gently tapped his skin. Tap Tap Tap Then, using her bare hand, began
to spank him again.

"We do not go into my bathroom with clothes on. In your impatience, you
forgot. But you will not forget again!" , she said in a firm voice as she
continued to spank him. "Mistress will not be disobeyed. Mistress will
be obeyed at all times. You will not do that
again will you pet?"

He did not answer and the only sound in the room was her spanking his bare
bottom to accent each word. Again and again.

"Answer me," she shouted as the leather strap replaced her hand
SWAT Again and once again the leather marked his ruby red skin.

"You will answer me when I speak to you, William!" SWAT and
the leather gnawed into his flesh leaving its mark.

"Yes, Ma'am. I promise I will remember. Always, Ma'am. Please, Ma'am, I'll
remember."

SWAT again and again the leather strap bore down and rippled his already
welted skin. He cried out and tears sprang to his eyes from the many stings
that were generated by the strap.

She, with her rhythm and control of her strap, had reduced him to the barest
and purest element of humanity. He was again a child. He cried, sobbed, as a
child.

As with a child, his sobs began to slowly subsided. Soon, only the sound of
his easy breathing could be heard in the dungeon.

Silently, her soothing hand was rubbing his raw and marked bottom with cool,
soothing lotion. She placed little kisses on his back. Her touch was as gentle
as that of a saint. Her kiss was tender.

She walked to the front of the spanking bench and kissed his wet forehead.

Gently, the blindfold was taken from his head. Tears escaped down his face.
She kissed his cheek and then her tongue licked the tears. His wrists were freed
from the bench as her kisses and tongue found more tears.

After removing the restraints from his ankles, she helped him from the bench.
She held him as he walked to the single bed in the room. The bed was prepared
and as he lay down, she drew the covers over him. He was hot and cold at the
same time. Mary used her body as a comfort for him. She whispered sweet nothings
in his ear and stroked his hair. He slept. The sleep of angels was his.

When William woke, he would examine his body in the full-length mirrors. He
would see the bruises he would carry for days. He would remember. He tried never,
never, to make the same mistake a second time. A second punishment for an original
sin is never so sweet as the first.

MzAnna

Copyright 1999

A Lightfoot Publication

Article Reprinted with Permission

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