New Roommate Chapter 5

The Fantasy Maker who Made My Season Bright

New Roommate Chapter 5

Patricia's friend Olivia had bought a tract of property about 50 miles out of town. She invited Patricia to drive up and spend a day in the country. I was brought along to drive and help out. It was decided that we could go in one car, see the property, and spend a day 'communing with nature'. Olivia came by the house early in the morning. We loaded lunch and a bunch of other junk into the car, and were soon on our way. I drove while Patricia and Olivia sat comfortably in the back seat chatting away. About two hours later we turned off the main road onto a narrow dirt road which led to her property. It was a slow bumpy two miles, but we eventually came to a clearing and Olivia announced that we had arrived. I pulled the car over and parked under some shade trees, then hopped out and opened the doors for Patricia and Olivia. I stood quietly as the two women stepped out and stretched their legs.

We opened the back of the car and began to remove the backpacks and food that we had brought. Olivia suggested that we take our things and hike about a mile to an area that would be perfect for a picnic.

"Nice that we have a slave with us to carry everything, quipped Olivia, as they loaded me down with the packs and other items.

"We'd better put a leash on this slave so he doesn't get lost."

I knew I was in for quite an afternoon. She reached into one of the packs and pulled out a collar and leash. Patricia wrapped the collar around my neck, fixed it in place with a tiny lock, and clipped a leash to one of the D-rings. She gave a tug on the leash and we began on our way. I had taken about three steps when Olivia perked up.

"Should we let a slave have free run out here? He might run away, or try to touch us. I think we need to secure him a bit."

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a length of rope. Quickly pulling my arms behind me, she tied my wrists.

"Now we can get going."

Again Patricia tugged on the leash and again we started off into the woods. I was soon huffing and puffing, carrying three packs and a picnic blanket while the women carried nothing more than their purses. Luckily the spot wasn't more than a mile away; I was perspiring like a packhorse when we finally came to a stop. Olivia took the blanket off my shoulder and spread it on the ground. With Patricia still holding the leash, Olivia removed the packs from my shoulders and set them down.

"Now, what are we going to do with this slave for the rest of the afternoon?"

Somehow I knew there was a plan afoot, by the smiles and tone of voice that they were using.

"Let�s tie him to that tree, Olivia. That will keep him quiet and we won't have to worry about him running off."

"What a good idea! Sure glad I brought some rope and stuff!"

Another tug on the leash and I was pulled over to a sturdy Oak tree. My eyes grew wide as Patricia dumped out her backpack that I had carried up the hill. Out spilled rope, chain, and leather items, all intended for me, no doubt. They grabbed a length of chain and wrapped it quickly around a heavy branch, then locked it to my collar, making sure I would go nowhere.

"Much better. I wouldn't want him to run off into the woods and get lost. We'd have to carry everything back ourselves."

Olivia then stepped close to me and in a soft voice said, Close your eyes and open my mouth. Not knowing what she was up to and hoping for a bite of the food I had carried up the hill I obliged, only to have a ball gag stuffed in and buckled in place. I harrumphed and groaned behind the gag to no avail.

"Olivia, he sure looks warm after all that work, just look at the sweat. Maybe he needs to cool off?"

"He is wearing a lot of clothes. Maybe we should take some of them off."

I made a weak protest behind the gag, but, again, to no avail. The two women looked at each other and laughed. I knew I was in trouble. They backed me up against the tree and with another length of rope secured me to the trunk, laughing the whole time. Next they began to strip me, starting with my shoes and socks, then unbuckling my belt and pulling my cut-offs down.

"Patricia, how are we going to get the rest his clothes off, with his arms tied like that?"

"Like they say in the scouts, be prepared."

Patricia reached into the pack and produced a pair of scissors. My eyes grew wide as she approached, making a snipping motion as she came near. She slid the cold metal shears beneath my shirt and began to snip, up the front and out the armholes. In a minute my shirt was nothing but scraps. I now wore nothing more than my briefs. The scissors moved down and the blades slipped beneath the elastic band of my underwear. I must admit to being a bit nervous about scissors snipping away around there. Snip. Snip. Snip. It took only moments and the remains of my shorts dropped to the ground, leaving me naked. Again I grumbled and snorted behind the gag, but once more the women just laughed at my plight.

"Ya'know, he still looks like he might escape. We better tie him better. We might fall asleep in the sun and he could get away."

Soon Patricia was tying my ankles, pulling each to one side of the tree, spreading my legs wide apart. They then stepped back and looked at their prize as if it was a bondage contest.

I gulped as once again. Patricia reached into her pack. Each time she did that, it was more torment for me. This time she pulled out her camera with a mischievous smile. First she documented my bondage, then the two of them then took turns snapping shots of each other with their bound prey. Finally they seemed to tire of tormenting me and sat down on the blanket and broke out the food. I watched as they enjoyed the picnic and a bottle of wine as I stood there tied to the tree. Patricia peeled off her blouse allowing me a brief glimpse of her breasts, and then quickly covered herself.

"Olivia, I want to sunbathe nude, but the slave will see me."

"Well, lets blindfold him, and then we can take our clothes off."

"Oh, what a lovely idea."

Seconds later the shreds of my shirt were fashioned into a blindfold and tied over my eyes.

"I feel so much freer now, Olivia"

I heard them walk away then things fell silent. I tugged and twisted, but I was well bound and wasn't going anywhere. It must have been a half hour later when I heard footsteps.

"Hello, slave. How are ya? Oh, I forgot, you can't talk right now. It sounded like Patricia as she stood very close and whispered in my ear.

"I'm naked to the waist, and I'd bet you'd love to see my breasts. Olivia's naked too. What would you do to see my nipples, slave?

Patricia continued to tease me, arousing me with simply the thought of her breasts. Suddenly Olivia's voice chimed in from the other side.

"So nice, all of us naked like this. Sorry you can't see anything"

I grunted from behind the gag and tugged at the ropes.

"That was rather rude. I think you need to be punished for that!"

I sighed, knowing I had made a big mistake. The two women set about changing my bindings and soon had my hands pulled over my head and attached to the tree branch, my torso stretched to the point of nearly having to stand on my toes. My legs were pulled apart; again I was tied with my legs spread wide. A slender rope was wrapped around my cock and balls and tied snugly in place.

It was only then that the spanking started. The two of them began on my ass, one on each side, alternating swats, until my rear was aching and probably quite pink. I was then left that way, while they retired to the blanket for a bit of rest. It was some time before they came back to me.

"Well, slave, have you learned to behave?"

"Yes mistresses."

"Well, you can prove it to us."

Olivia untied the blindfold revealing the fact that neither was naked, at least at that point, disappointing me very much. They finally began to untie me from the tree, leaving my ankles and wrists bound, and the rope around the family jewels. The two of them sat back on the blanket a few yards away.

"Crawl over here slave. I need a foot massage,� announced Olivia.

Crawling while tied isn't easy, but I made my way to where they were and knelt before them. Olivia kicked off her shoe and extended her foot. I reached out and began to massage her toes, then continued to the rest of her foot. A few minutes later she extended the other foot and I pampered it as I had done with the first.

"Very good slave, you have at least one talent."

"My turn," announced Patricia.

She then extended her bare foot toward me. I began to reach out to massage it when she stopped me.

"You can do my massage with your mouth, slave. Kiss my feet."

I leaned forward and planted a few delicate kisses on her toes.

"Like you mean it, slave, or it's back to the tree with you!"

I began to kiss her feet with more effort, taking her toes into my mouth and licking each, in turn. Difficult as it was to move about while bound, I managed to massage her toes with my tongue as instructed, and then kiss the soles of her feet.

"OK, I'll admit it. You do have some use, slave. Now lets get packed up. Time we headed back to the city."

Olivia untied my ankles, then attached the leash to my collar. I was beginning to wonder about the fact that I was still naked, when Patricia came over and held up my cut-offs, or what was left of them.

"These covered too much for a slave, so we trimmed them a bit for you."

There was barely anything left of them, aside from a small bit around the zipper, which might, at times, cover my cock. Everything else was cut away, including the pockets and the whole rear end. Patricia held them as I stepped into them, and fastened them in place, giggling as she worked. The packs were placed over my head, followed by a tug on the leash. I tried to say the word shoes, under the gag, but was ignored.

We started down the path to the car, with me in tow, stumbling as my bare feet covered the ground.

"Silly slave, seems to have lost his shoes. You just can't trust them to do anything right."

Mistress Patricia, the Fantasy Maker who Made My Season Bright

Do you remember your first time? I do ... I can still recall the jitters as I picked up the phone for the fiftieth time and completed the call for the first; I can still feel the flop sweat_I experienced on the drive in from Monterey, which I washed away in a stall at the Denny's bathroom; I still remember the urge to bolt while waiting first for the door to the ominously blacked -out house opened, and then for my fantasy maker to appear.

I remember calculating the odds: most adult entertainers are in it for the money; most experiences are disappointing; most leave you feeling embarrassed and ripped off. Why not leave? Nothing has been lost yet ... and then she enters. She appears taller than she is, in her heels; her long green slitted dress clings to every luscious curve, and you realize that she is more beautiful than you have any right to expect. She extends her hand, introduces herself, and you are put immediately at ease . . .

Suddenly, your anxieties disappear, and it seems perfectly normal that in the next two hours you will be bound, whipped, displayed, shocked, and sodomized . . . In fact, it seems the most natural thing in the world. You find yourself opening up in ways you never did before. . . yes, I'm interested in anal play -- sure, I'd try the violet wand. You open up as if you hadn't given the session a second thought.

And for two hours you are hers. You have few limits (no marks) and are willing to try new things, but don't quite know what you want . . . It doesn't matter. She does. You like to surrender control? The blindfold is waiting. You're interested in electricity? The violet wand is applied. You wish to be humiliated and fucked like the slut you are . . . the dildo is strapped on and ready.

And then she asks, " What is your fantasy? Tell me one. . ." You are not prepared for this but you give it your best shot . . . to be held under the control of a merciless woman who has the goods on you... and as you approach orgasm, she plays into the fantasy -- threatening to make you lick up your cum. Of course, this is what you want-- she has once again read your mind. And when you make a reference to B'rer Rabbit being thrown into the briar patch, her laughter slows down her thrusts, marginally.

After you've come, you mention how pleased you are by the quality of her service, and she responds that her efforts are typical of the staff. You are amazed that this is true, but resolve to return.

When you do return, you are unable to meet with Mistress Patricia for a second time, but you realize that she is right -- everyone else is equally approachable. As a result, you have no qualms when Mistress Olivia violates you with a dildo as you swing suspended from the ceiling; or when Mistress Luna beats the living crap out of your thighs with a riding crop; or as Mistress Amber compels you to nuzzle her thighs as she spanks your bottom; or as any of them piss on your face... The world of BD/SM has been opened to you, and there is no more worry.

But you've got to visit Mistress Patricia again . . . and you do . . . and she once again knows what you want before you know it yourself. Knowing you enjoyed anal play, knowing you didn't flinch when another dominatrix entered the room the first time, she goes for the humiliation . . . dressed up in cape and butt plug, you are forced to display yourself to Mistresses Tatiana and Maureen, as Mistress Patricia laughs. This was possibly the most powerful turn - on of your life, and the only reason it happened was because Mistress Patricia somehow knew, or paid attention, or both.

Thank you, Mistress Patricia, for making my experiences at Fantasy Makers so special, and for convincing me that I could happily meet with anyone else on your staff . . . I can only hope that my meager prose is worthy of another session with you.

More Info - Patricia

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