To Serve Her Better

For she’s the girl that rules my world and keeps me in my place

Sits regally upon the eager throne that is my face

I lick her till my tongue goes dry, to make her; make her wetter

I would do all this and more to serve her; serve her better

 

To be restrained, all bound and chained for hour after hour

That urge to spill, and all free will, devoured by her power

My cock that’s locked in chastity ensures I can’t forget her

I would do all this and more to serve her; serve her better

 

And every day I will obey that longing to submit

She’s my queen, my dominant dream, and I’m her little bitch

So if she wants to strap it on and be the boy; I’ll let her

I would do all this and more to serve her; serve her better

This is what I’m living for: to serve her; serve her better

 

 

This poem came from the charity anthology, Coming Together: In Verse. Amazon link below, and look out for Volume 2 coming soon.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Coming-Together-Verse-Ashley-Lister-ebook/dp/B0184CL7IO Coming Together.jpg

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Massaging the Mistress

I walk in to find you naked, lying on your front. Needless to say, I’m naked too, as I have always been in your presence since you claimed me. I harden instantly, and enjoy an all too brief moment of drinking in your beautiful body, memorising every curve before you issue your command. “I need to relax,” you say, “relax me, slave.”

Distracted by the exquisite vision before me, it takes me a little while to realise that you want, no, demand a massage, You don’t like to be kept waiting, and tut at me. It shakes me from my dreamlike reverie, and I fear that you will remember this mistake and punish me for it. Not the spanking or pegging ‘punishments’ that you know I crave, but the far worse censure of denial, or exclusion, or being ignored. But I push that thought out of my head: right now I have a chance to touch you, to feel you, and I hope, impress you enough not to banish me.

I place my hands on the small of your back, and gasp my appreciation at the divine softness of your skin. I start to knead my palms into your yielding flesh there, but my eyes are fixed just below, on the luscious curves and contours of your bare ass. I see movement there, twerking – for me! – and lose myself in that hypnotic rhythm before resuming the task in hand. Even I couldn’t miss that hint.

So I cup that ripe, juicy peach, one smooth, soft cheek in each grateful hand, and resume that kneading motion. I push the cheeks together and pull them apart, all the while working in each finger, and probing with my thumbs. I see the bottle of baby oil you’ve laid out alongside you; it’s new and completely full, so I don’t need to be sparing with it.

I raise it high to tip it over above you, so the oil cascades down and splashes on your bare exposed backside, and from the way you writhe and moan under the stream, it’s clearly a pleasurable sensation. I rub it in, working it with my fingers, while the thumbs one by one, accidentally on purpose, just push a little teasing way into your asshole. You moan again, and this time gasp my name. Not my title, not ‘slave’, but my actual name. My cock, already achingly hard, bobs wildly in appreciation, and my helmet pulsates wishfully.

I reluctantly move my oily hands from your butt, but I have a plan in mind. I drizzle a long, thick line from your butt crack all the way up to the back of your neck, and then slowly follow it up with my hands, rubbing the oil around, into your skin, relaxing the muscles.

By the time I reach your shoulders I am leaning over you at such an angle that my chest has picked up a slick sheen of the oil, the wisps of hair flattened down to glide smoothly over your back. Down below, my cock is also glistening with oil, and perhaps a little pre-cum where it’s been rubbing teasingly over your butt cheeks. Oh god, I can’t take it anymore, I need you so fucking much!

I’m taking such a risk that I’m trembling with fear as much as desire, but I’m too lost in you to stop myself. I hold the throbbing head of my cock against your hole and push; gently, but enough to make my intentions perfectly clear. I expect a furious reaction, but instead you moan lightly and push back against me and I am in.

It feels like I am home, that I’ve finally found the place I truly belong. I start to push, so very gently, tentatively. “Don’t fucking tease me, slave,” you say, “And don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Responding to your words, I push again, working up a good rhythm; harder, faster, thrusting from my hips and muscular thighs and reaching deep inside you.

“Ohhhh, fuck, that’s good,” you purr, “But don’t you dare cum until I have!”

I try to reply that I promise I won’t, but all that comes out is a frantic, garbled gasp. I so desperately want to cum, and you know it so well. You must want an excuse to punish me, because you start to work and twerk at me, your ass gripping and releasing, teasing me in a way that takes me right to the edge in seconds. And then you tell me how much I love this, and how badly I ache and yearn to shoot my load. I already know this, but you telling me so brings it even closer.

This is the sweetest, most exquisite, most agonising torture I have ever known. But I push back harder and faster, racing to the line and trying so hard to take you with me. And I know I’ve found somewhere in you that really works, because your tormenting words have given way to a succession of short, fast panting, and I know you’re close.

But oh fuck, so am I. Every fibre of my being wants to propel my seed into you, to give myself to you even more completely than I already have. But I fight it, oh so hard, for now at least. Every muscle in my body is tensed, teeth grinding, eyes bulging. A shudder sets in and wracks through my whole body, and you feel it too. Only knowing how close you are gives me the determination not to give into the feeling just yet.

I push and push, on and on. I close my eyes and see swirls and colours in my mind, and your moans and gasps of pleasure are the sweetest music I have ever heard. “Ohh,” you murmur, “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum!”

Your volume increases, I luxuriate in in it. “Oh yeah, slave! Oh shit … oh … oh fuck, so close! Oh! Yes! Now, slave! Cum for me, cum, cum!”

You don’t need to tell me three times. I give into that carnal need, that ultimate desire, with a release I feel throughout my entire body. All that I am is here to pump into you, reaching so deep within to fill you up as we both soar on the ecstatic wave of mutual orgasm, and ride the ripples of continuing after-pleasure, before we both sink back, sated and soaked, into your luxurious feather bed.

I lay a gentle kiss on your neck. “Thank you Mistress – are you relaxed enough now?”

Hypno-erotica

This is the femdom hypnosis induction scene from my future release, Shagnasty Submits …

 

Oh poor you; you look so tired, sweetie! Tired but cute, I mean. You deserve to relax now … come, lie on the couch and I’ll look after you. Your muscles are all so tense and weary from the flights, but I’ll soon massage all that tension away.

Yes, this dim lighting will help you unwind. It’s all candle light, and so sweetly scented just for you. These other glowing embers are burning incense. Breathe them in honey, because these soothing smells, my soothing hands, and my soothing voice will soon chase all your cares away.

That feels good, doesn’t it? My touch and my words make you so relaxed … my touch and my words feel so good … my touch and my words are taking you under.

Oh look at you now, fighting to keep awake, trying so hard to keep your eyes open. Don’t fight it sweetie. You will give in. My persuasion is stronger than your resistance. You will give in, and that’s when the pleasure starts.

Is it because I’m so pretty? Is that why you’re so desperately aching to keep those eyes open? That’s okay then; take a nice long look at my face, at this face you’re already starting to love. Stare longingly into my deep brown eyes … lose yourself in my deep brown eyes … lose yourself … you are lost now, lost in my eyes forever, and you never want to find your way out again.

Close your eyes now sweetie, and you’ll still be able to see me in your mind’s eye. I’ll be there behind your eyelids, guiding you, taking control of you, taking your worries away.

Good.

Now that your eyes are closed, my words have deeper resonance, my touch sends tingles of bliss throughout your entire body, and it’s so difficult to open your eyes back up again.

Give it a try. Try for me, sweetie.

Are you trying yet? Oh yes, I think I can see some movement. But it’s so hard … your eyelids are so heavy … you just want to close them again. Close them tight. Keep them closed. You don’t want to open your eyes again, and even if you did, you couldn’t.

That’s better. Let go of your conscious mind, and just focus on my words, and my touch. Your body craves my touch. I’m going to take my hands away now sweetie, but you will still feel them. You will feel them massaging your mind, and taking you deeper down. Surrender to that feeling. Surrender … surrender.

Now picture yourself on a beach, with beautiful golden sand, and a sea that is the clearest blue you have ever seen. I want you to step slowly across the sand, to the water’s edge. Feel your bare feet sink into the sand as you walk, sinking into the sand just like you’re sinking into a trance. Step towards the water … keep going … nearly there … and now you get to the water’s edge.

Take one little step into the sea, and feel the cool, blue water flowing over your feet, washing away all of your stress, washing away all of your thoughts, washing away all of your resistance.

Look out over the ocean, and see me in the water waiting for you. I want you to come to me. I want you to come to me and belong to me. Walk towards me.

Good … good.

With every step you take, the water washes away your control. With every word I say, you can feel your free will ebbing away. By the time you reach me in the water, you will be all mine.

You’re nearly there now. Sinking into the water just like you’re sinking into a trance, until all you have left is your devotion to me. You’re nearly ready to submit to me completely. Only five more steps until you come within reach of me … four … three … two … one … and you’re here. I’m so close you can touch me. Touch me. Reach out and touch me, and give yourself to me willingly.

Good. Ohh, good. Sleep for me now. Obey. Sleep for me. Obey.

You’re mine now, in a trance so deep that my every word will imprint itself indelibly on your subconscious. My mind is your mind. My thoughts are your thoughts, and everything I say is the undeniable truth to you.

You are helpless to resist. You are powerless to disobey. From now on, you only live to serve me. Submitting to me gives you a warm and comfortable feeling all over. Obeying my orders gives you an erotic surge that feels like an orgasm. But you can never ejaculate without my permission.

After you awake, you will be strongly influenced to obey my commands, to believe whatever I tell you, to try to please me in any you can. But when I put on my boots, you will become even more submissive. Whenever you see me in my boots you will become incredibly aroused. You will instantly gain a solid, throbbing erection, and you will retain it until I allow you to ejaculate, or order you to become soft.

Whenever you see me wearing my boots, you will address me as Mistress Bossy Boots. You will yearn to worship me. You will yearn to worship my boots; to lick their fragrant leather, and suck on their high heels like you wish I would suck your cock, but you know I never will.

You will be unable to disobey any command I give you, however difficult or impossible it is to carry out. You will accept my every suggestion as indisputable fact, however unlikely it may seem to be true. My approval will mean everything to you, and give you a pride and sense of achievement greater than anything you have previously experienced. But my rebuke will cause unbearable feelings of loss, grief and remorse until I choose to forgive you.

These commands are ingrained in you now. They supersede your own thoughts, and they will always be there, without fading away. But you will never consciously remember me telling you this, and you will never have any awareness or realisation of having been hypnotised. You will never understand how you came to feel this way; in fact you will believe you have felt this way forever.

I’m going to bring you back soon, and when I do you will know that you belong to me, and your only desire is to serve and obey me. I’m going to count you down from five, and when I snap my fingers you will awake, but drown once more in my hypnotic brown eyes and want to worship me forever.

Five …

Four …

Three …

Two …

One …

Snap.

 

 

The Sub-Way

Going through this subway after working late is always nerve-wracking, and tonight is no different. I spot someone else in the dull semi-illuminated underpass, heading towards me, but give a little sigh of relief as I realise it’s only a girl. Her facial expression is stern, but to me, alluring. I can’t stop myself smiling her way.

“What are you looking at?”

Her words stop me in my tracks. I try to reply but can’t find my voice.

“Rich boy in a posh suit gotta pay to look at me. And you gotta pay to go through this subway too.”

I mumble some kind of incoherent apology and turn to retrace my steps and choose the overpass. But I find my way blocked by another girl, young and attractive, but looking mean and moody in leggings and a denim jacket.

“Where you going?” And then to her friend, “He don’t wanna pay us!”

The first girl steps forward, closing the distance between us, so close I can smell her perfume. It’s intoxicating. I wonder how I smell to her; a heady cocktail of fear and arousal, probably.

“Give me your wallet, rich boy.”

She doesn’t raise her voice; she doesn’t need to. She whispers the words, purrs them, yet her tone is utterly commanding as it reverberates around the subway. I hand over the wallet, without a shred of resistance.

Her eyes widen in surprise at my instant capitulation. She adopts a wicked smile, but it’s not for me; she exchanges knowing looks with her friend. And it’s the friend who says, “Now get down on your knees!”

I do, berating myself for my surrender. Why am I doing this? I could have pushed past either of them and ran away. But I handed over my wallet and got on my knees simply because they told me to!

The humiliation and shame burns within me. To my surprise, and further shame, I find myself liking it: as I bow my head I see that my rock hard cock is pitching a massive tepee in the front of my suit trousers. My captors also notice.

“Ooh, rich boy likes being bossed about!” says the first girl.

“Dirty pervert,” sneers her friend, “We should cut it off!”

“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s put that thing to good use. Pants off rich boy, let’s see what you got!”

I hesitate momentarily, but the looks I receive compel me to obey. I take off my trousers and boxers, and my hardon springs free.

“Now lie down on your back, rich boy!”

I do, and my vision goes black. Something has been thrown over my face, and I only realise it’s the friend’s leggings when they’re removed, and I see her standing naked over me. My cock bobs, pulsing its appreciation, and the next thing I know the first girl has it in hand. She squats down, lowering herself onto me and guiding me into her, while her friend makes herself comfortable sitting on my face.

She grinds herself against me; I’m already lapping and she seems to like it. I alternate between driving my tongue as deep as I can, and rapid-fire flicks over her sweet little nub. She tastes divine.

My sensations are heightened by the first girl riding my cock. She’s none too gentle, bouncing up and down like an Olympic trampolinist and slamming my naked backside into the pavement. I can feel it grazing and scratching my soft cheeks, but I don’t mind. The pain is lost amidst all the pleasure responses I’m experiencing.

I can only see ass and thighs, but I can hear what’s going on above me. The two girls are kissing, and playing with each other’s tits as they ride my face and cock. The sounds of their smooching and squelching drive me crazy; being so close but unable to see it is the most exquisite torture. And as the first girl picks up the pace she can sense that I’m ready to cum.

There’s another jolt of pleasure-pain as she digs her nails into my thigh. “Don’t cum yet, rich boy! If you do it’ll be your last time ever!”

They grind and writhe against me with ever greater vigour, each of them building so close to their own climax. I work my tongue furiously, thrust my hips, and fight to hold in my own eruption. The cries and moans of the two girls echo through the cavernous underpass, until finally, mercifully, the first girl reaches her glorious climax and allows mine.

“Cum now! Cum now, rich boy!”

And I do. It’s the most intense release I’ve ever had; spurt after incredible spurt, trying to throw my head back in ecstasy, sandwiched as it is between the cold hard pavement and the soft soaking pussy of the second girl as she screams her own rapturous orgasm.

And then there is stillness, and relative silence, save for our heavy breathing as we try to recover. I am wrecked, I am ruined, and I love it. I lie there, groggy and exhausted, dull ache in my head, burning sensation on my arse, still not quite sure whether I’ve been a victim or a willing participant.

I raise my head, and am rewarded by the sight of the two girls kissing and groping one another with reckless abandon and manic fervour. It seems their pleasure isn’t done yet, and maybe mine isn’t either, because somehow my just-emptied cock finds new life on seeing this, and begins to harden again.

“Oi, don’t watch us, you pervert!” shouts the second girl, “Get dressed, and fuck off!”

I do so, hesitantly, so disoriented that I’m not sure which way is home and which way is work. But as I start to leave, the first girl calls me back.

“Don’t forget this,” she says, handing back my wallet.

I stare at it, dumbstruck, and she answers the question in my eyes.

“Because we’re gonna mug you for it again, this time tomorrow.”