A Slaves Strength

A Slave's Strength (Chapter 12):
Breakfast of Champions

by

mechgogo

"It's all here, Mistress." Tom said, putting the last of his things back in the property bag. He signed the form Mistress Marie gave him and too his new ID. She taken the liberty of printing up one that had information relevant to his new owner's name and address on it before they left the center.

Mistress signed off on the receiving paperwork for Tom. "Thank you so much for bringing him to my attention." She said to her friend. "I'll have the funds transferred by lunchtime."

Marie waved off the idea of payment. "It's on me. I owe you for the fiasco with Simon. I really can't apologize enough for that."

"It was hardly your fault, dear."

"I feel responsible." Marie said. "If it makes you feel any better think of it as an early birthday present."

"My birthday is in February, Marie." Mistress said.

"I never said how early, did I?" Marie asked with a grin.

The two women hugged then. Tom kissed Marie's feet and thanked her for pulling the necessary strings to get him into Mistress' service.

Marie took him by the chin. "We'll be seeing one another again soon, Thomas." She said "Your Mistress is one of my closest friends. I expect to hear good things when I visit."

Tom nodded. "Nothing but, Mistress Marie."

"Good boy."

She left then. Mistress closed the door and turned to Tom. He felt his adrenaline start to flow. Up until now the idea of being an indentured servant had just been a hypothetical. Even his time at the center hadn't really made it seem real. Now things were different. Now it was just him and a woman who had the legal right to do almost anything she wanted with him. A woman who had told him right to his face she was going to spend significant amounts of time hurting him for no better reason than that it turned her on.

Mistress gave Tom a proprietary smile. She pointed to the couch. "Over there, dear." She said. "We need to prep you for the day and begin your training. Have you had breakfast yet?"

Tom shook his head as he crawled over to the couch. "No, Mistress, not yet."

"Good. I made up some of the rice you normally eat. You can have it in a little while. First things first, though."

Mistress opened the green gym bag Tom had brought down earlier and began taking items from it. There was a mirror in a stand-alone picture frame, a leather paddle, some latex gloves, a bottle of lubricant, a leash, a collar with a large round sleigh bell on it and a four inch butt plug with a several strands of upholstery cord clipped to it. The cords had little tiny jingle bells on them. That explained the chinking noise he had heard when he had carried the bag down his teeth a little while ago. What it didn't explain was, what the hell was up with female slavers and girl-on-guy ass play.

Tom gave a mental shrug. He had put himself in this position. No one had laid a gun to his head. And it wasn't as if he didn't know his rear end would be seeing attention from whoever bought him. At least the person doing it would be a good looking woman instead of some hairy guy who was almost as wide as he was tall.

"I understand you are a virgin, dear?" Mistress asked. "Anally, I mean."

Tom nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

"Unusual given your past. But not for much longer." She smiled as she said the last part.

Mistress picked the plug up off the table. She gave it a little shake making the bells sing. "This is going inside you, Thomas. It will serve to keep you mindful of your new status and stretch you out so that I don't tear you, when I take you later. Do you need to use the restroom before we begin?

Tom indicated he did, and Mistress let him use the downstairs bathroom. When he tried to wipe himself she scolded him and bent him over the sink. A glove went on her hand and she scrubbed him with a warm wash cloth.

"I want you nice and clean for me, dear." She said, patting his bottom.

Back in the living room, Mistress sat on the couch. She patted her lap "Face down, puppy." She said. She set the mirror up to her left on the couch cushions.

Tom lay across his owner's lap facing the mirror. He felt his cock start to harden. It was getting so that this sort of thing was downright normal. The fact that he kept getting turned on by getting his ass warmed was taking a bit more getting used to but if you didn't have a say in something happening at least you could enjoy it.

"Hands under your face, Thomas." Mistress ordered.

One hand was petting his hair. The other caressed his rear in slow, gentle circles. Tom could feel his fight or flight instincts wanting to kick in. He forced them down, made himself relax. This wasn't some stranger out to mug him or hurt his girls. This was his Mistress exercising her right to enjoy his body.

The first shot landed without warning. One second he was being petted, the next a sharp smack rang across his butt. He jerked in surprise. Mistress' hand clamped down on his neck, pinning his face to the couch.

"Hold still, little one." She warned. "You only move the parts I'm hitting and then only in response to my blows."

More swats followed. Mistress covered him from the top of his rump to just above the back of his knees. She alternated her touch, sometimes petting him, sometimes raining hard, stinging smacks onto his skin. Her nails danced over the welts, making him twitch. Tom didn't bother to count the hits. It wouldn't matter if he did. Mistress would hit him as many times as it pleased her to and there was nothing he could do about it. He let the pain roll over him, sinking into Mistress' lap and submitting himself to her completely. By the time she switched to the paddle Tom was shaking and sobbing silently.

"You're doing very well, Thomas." Mistress said, running the paddle over his tender skin. The stiff leather felt oddly cool and comforting against his reddened butt.

"Thank you, Mistress. I'm trying to be good for you."

"And you are, dear. You should feel how wet I am."

Tom perked up at that, coming out of the gray, floaty place he was in. "Please, Mistress?" he asked eagerly.

"Soon enough, puppy, soon enough. We have more to do here first."

And with that she brought the paddle down with a hard crack across both his thighs. The strikes which followed that one came in rapid succession. Tom tried to let the pain from the paddle sweep him up the way Mistress' hand had done but it was too intense. The pain grabbed him, made him cry out. It burned and stung. He bit his hand to try and distract himself only to get cuffed across the back of the head when Mistress caught him.

"Bad dog!" She snapped.

He understood what she wanted then. It wasn't just his pain or the power rush that came from having someone as dangerous as he was helpless under her. It was his reaction she craved. Knowing that, Tom dropped his usual defenses. Suffering is at least half mental. If you know what you're doing you can put a lit cigarette out on the palm of your own hand without flinching. Tom had spent a lifetime building walls in his head between himself and physical discomfort. There on Mistress' couch he went inside his skull and methodically kicked them all down.

Leather cracked against already reddened, welted skin. The edge of the paddle scrapped across the raised and throbbing areas making him squirm. He cried out and more than once screamed between clenched teeth at an especially sharp strike to his ass or thighs. Finally it stopped. He was panting and sweating as if he had just worked out. His face was wet with tears. That was bizarre enough in its own right. He almost never cried from physical pain.

The places Mistress had hit him strobbed out angry red complaints to his nerves. There was a familiar buoyant feeling to everything that reminded him of the aftermath of getting tattooed. Weirdest of all, his dick was rigid with desire. You'd think to look between his legs that Mistress had spent the last who-knew-how-long blowing him not beating him.

The paddle was put aside and Mistress was petting him again. Her voice was as gentle as her touch.

"Easy, little one." She said. "We're all done for now. Nice slow deep breaths for Mistress. That's a good boy."

When Tom regained his composure, Mistress ordered him onto his back. He rolled over and winced. Mistress cradled him in one arm. She ran her fingers down his torso, trailing them over the hard muscles of his stomach and chest. Short, well manicured nails combed through his pubic hair. Without being told, he spread his legs, earning a smile.

"Such a good little doggy." She told him, stroking his cock lightly. Tom rocked his hips a little increasing the contact. Mistress didn't seem to mind but he stopped when she gave him a warning squeeze.

"Such a sweet, submissive puppy." She danced her nails along the underside of his shaft and he whimpered.

Tom could have stayed like that all day. One of the things he had missed most about separation from the twins was the time they spent cuddling. The sex was fantastic between them, better than anything he had experienced previously. But you can only screw so much before things commence to chafe. Every day at home had been an endless round of little touches in passing. A hand across the back as someone went from the living room to the kitchen. A hug during an encounter in the hallway. Constant tactile reminders that here were people who loved one another without stint or condition. He had no clue how intrinsic to his daily life those moments were until they were gone. Lying in Mistress' arms with her hands playing over his skin was almost like being home again.

Unfortunately, Mistress had other plans. Much sooner than he would have liked she gave him a final kiss and ordered him to kneel on the floor in front of her.

"And no touching your welts." She warned.

"Do you know how many times I hit you, Thomas?" She asked when he was in position.

Tom shook his head. "No, Mistress. I wasn't counting."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "It didn't seem relevant. It wasn't like you were disciplining me. It felt more like play. I figured you'd finish when you were finished and it didn't matter how many shots it took to get there. Did I do something wrong by not counting?"

Mistress shook her head. "Not at all. I will always let you know when I want you to count. I was just curious to see if you had been keeping track. What would you say if I told you you received sixty-four spanks in total?"

Tom frowned at that. It seemed a weird number but it didn't take him long to work out the significance. "You gave me two spanks for every year I've been alive, Mistress?"

"Every year you spent not serving me dear, yes. Think of it as nailing the door shut on your past. You're still Thomas. You still have all the skills and quirks and memories of the young man that Mistress Melanie brought here. But you are my Thomas now. You understand?"

Tom nodded. "Yes, Mistress I understand."

"Yes, Mistress I understand what?"

"Yes, Mistress I understand I'm your Thomas now. I don't belong to myself anymore."

"Good boy. Are you ready to be fitted with your tail and be fed your breakfast?"

Ifreann, no. Tom bowed his head. "Yes, Mistress, if you're ready to feed me and give me my tail I'm ready when you are."

She gestured to the table. "On your back, legs in the air, and spread nice and wide for me."

Tom gave the table a dubious look. "Are you sure it'll hold me, Mistress? I'm not exactly tiny."

"That table has born the combined weight of myself and at least one indentured who was heavier than you, Thomas. Now move."

Tom lay on his back with his rear end on the edge of the table. He lifted his legs and spread himself, gripping the backs of his knees with his hands. It was an embarrassing, uncomfortable position that left him feeling completely exposed.

Mistress stood over him for a moment enjoying the view. "Very nice." She said. She took her phone from her post and, to Tom's mortification snapped a picture.

"See how lovely you look, dear?" She asked, showing him the photo.

Tom blushed. The sight of himself spread out like that was humiliating. "Yes, Mistress." He said quietly. "I can see how you'd like looking at me that way."

Mistress knelt between his legs then. She donned a glove and generously lubed his anus before inserting the plug.

"I don't want to damage you, darling." She said as she worked her fingers in and out of him. She held her fingers at waist height and pumped her hips in time with the thrusts, simulating what she would be doing to him later.

Before the insertion, Mistress held the plug up for Tom to see. It was four inches long and as thick around as three of her fingers at its widest point. The base flared out almost like a suction cup and the area connecting the base to the body of the plug narrowed to about the width of Tom's pinky finger. A little D-ring was attached to the base. The strands of what would be Tom's tail, with their little jingle bells hung from the clip. It glistened with a coating of lubricant. Tom fought to control his breathing. There was a time and a place for fear and anger and a there was a time to just relax and make the best of the inevitable, however unpleasant it might be. This was the latter.

"You saw the strapon hanging in the closet, Thomas?" She asked.

Tom nodded. "Yes, Mistress." The thing had hung on its harness amid the other toys on the wire rack. Seven inches long and a bit thicker than the plug Mistress was holding, it had easily been the scariest piece of equipment in the collection.

"After dinner, I will be deflowering you with that. You will lay on your back in my bed just like you are now. You will wrap your legs around me and urge me on as I sodomize you. And the first orgasm you have in this house will be while I use that toy on you. Are we clear?"

Tom swallowed nervously. His throat was painfully dry. "Yes, Mistress, I'll be a good boy while you use me."

That earned him a smile. "Of course you will, darling. Now just relax and breathe. The more relaxed you are the less painful this will be."

The tip of the plug pressed against Tom's anus. He did his best to relax, taking slow, deep breaths as Mistress worked it slowly but inexorably deeper inside him. He could feel the blush igniting his cheeks with the embarrassment and violation of the sensation. At one point he whimpered and bit his lip. Mistress swatted him for that.

"Hush!" she said. "You're going to have something much larger inside you tonight. You should be grateful I don't use one of my spare strapons to prep you instead of this."

When the plug finally went all the way in it left him feeling like he needed to use the restroom again. The slightly full, slightly stretched sensation was uncomfortable but not quite painful. Tom tried to remember the last time he had felt so helpless or personally invaded and drew a blank.

"There." Mistress said, giving him a gentle pat between the cheeks. "That's not so bad is it?"

"No, Mistress. It..." Tom lowered his eyes "...it feels nice."

She smiled at him. "You are such a little liar. But it shows you know your place." Mistress stood up and motioned him to kneel in front of the couch.

"I will be right back with your breakfast, dear. Have you had any caffeine today? I understand you take a soda most mornings?"

"Mistress Marie treated me to a hot chocolate on the way in, Mistress. But I am starting to get a withdrawal headache."

"Well we can't have that, now can we?"

Tom waited patiently for Mistress to return. Crockery rattled and the microwave beeped. The air filled with the familiar smell of his usual breakfast. Years ago he had worked out that rice was a damn sight cheaper per serving than cereal to say nothing of sticking with you longer, especially if you loaded it up with vegetables and whatever leftover meat had the least amount of fur on it. Even from the living room the scent made his mouth water.

Mistress returned with a steaming bowl resting on a plate in one hand and a can of his favorite soda in the other. She held up the can.

"Your brand, I believe?" She asked.

Tom nodded. He had spotted a dozen cans of the stuff in the fridge when he had been getting the tea earlier but hadn't said anything.

"Good." Mistress set the soda on the table under a coaster. She held the bowl under his nose and let him smell the food. Tom's stomach rumbled. It had been longer than he wanted to think about since his last meal. He looked at her expectantly.

"Not just yet, dear." Mistress set the food beside the soda. She lifted her skirt and sat down on the couch. Tan, muscular legs opened and Tom could see her bush. It glistened from his spanking and from prepping him with the plug.

Mistress gestured to him. "Time to earn your plate, little one." She said.

Tom didn't need to be told twice. Even before entering service he had enjoyed going down on women. He pushed his face between his owner's legs and began licking her moist, blond haired slit.

Mistress leaned back further into the couch. She lifted her legs and rested them on his shoulders.

Mmmm, good boy." She murmured.

Tom grinned. It was nice getting that kind of reaction from a good looking woman, even one who saw him as a cross between a housepet and walking marital aid.

A hand gripped the back of his hair. Hips bucked against his face. "No need to be so tentative, Thomas." Came the order. "Show, Mistress how much you like her."

Tom pressed his face in deeper. His tongue and lips worked quickly, lapping and sucking at the musky wetness. Most of his mind focused on his task but part of him was keeping a mental clock running. One one-thousand, two one-thousand.

Mistress bucked and thrashed for the first time within the first two minutes of his mouth's attention. She squealed and arched her back, thrashing her pelvis against his face. Tom didn't back off. He increased his efforts and she went off again within seconds, still riding the wave of her first orgasm.

"One more, darling." Mistress gasped.

Tom obeyed gladly. He tried to bring his hands into play and got smacked across the shoulder.

"No! Mouth only!"

He nodded, not saying anything. His tongue dove into his owner's vagina, licking as deep as he could. He closed his mouth over her, sucking while his tongue lapped away inside. The tempo increased, Mistress' breathing peaked again and she filled his mouth one last time with her cum. The gripping hand petted him affectionately as she lay there regaining her composure. Tom kept his position but slacked off the pace. His jaw was starting to ache and as much as he enjoyed pleasing Mistress, he didn't want to be down there all day.

Mistress lifted her legs off him and gently pushed him back. He snuck one last little kiss of her privates before sitting back on his heels.

"It seems I was wrong." She said.

Tom frowned. "I don't understand, Mistress. Did I do something to displease you?"

Her laugh filled the room. "Not at all, Thomas. Very much the opposite in fact. I was wrong in my assumption that Agent Comisky was exaggerating her reactions in the video of you two together."

"Oh! I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Mistress. I really do want to please you."

"I know dear heart. It shows in your behavior. And I expect it to always do so. Are we clear?"

Tom bowed. "Mistress has her puppy's word."

"Good boy." She set his breakfast on the floor in front of him. "There you go. Not one grain of rice on my carpet. And we do not waste food in this house. I want that bowl to gleam when you finish."

Tom let his actions answer for him. He went down on all fours and ate his first meal as Eleanor's property using only his mouth. Mistress stood above him and smiled at how easy it had been to bring him to heel.

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