Breaking Greg - Part One
Mistress liked to get away from the dungeon once in a while and experience something almost as powerful as herself nature. A friend of hers had a cottage in the highlands of Scotland that fitted the bill and which she had used for a number of years. Mistress was able to escape and think in the tranquillity of the Scottish countryside. She could enjoy the view over the glens from a covered balcony the cottage contained. Or if the mood took her she could go for a walk, breathe in the fresh air and relax in the peace and quiet. This life was too quiet for her all the time but once a year it was a break she looked forward too.
Mistress always took slaves with her on her trips and the cottage was kitted out with some dungeon furniture. There was a rack, whipping bench and a St Andrews Cross. All these pieces were in camouflage most of the time as they doubled as vanilla furniture such as tables. A toilet box was also kept at the cottage and there were outhouses that had their uses and provided a change of scene.
Four of Mistresss personal slaves had joined her on this trip. They had, over the years, earned the right for more exclusive access to her life and were also able to handle the demands of being in Mistresss entourage. Being one of her stable called for devotion that many were not capable of and Mistress greatly enjoyed being surrounded by four submissives who could express their adulation without a break for prolonged periods.
Mistress had been at the cottage for a couple of days. The weather had turned earlier that evening and rain was lashing down outside when darkness completely fell at 8pm. Mistress Julia decided to sit in the cottages front room and read for a while. She ordered one of her slaves to become a statue and stand still in a pose against the wall. Another was told to become a footstool and Mistress was resting her booted feet on his back when there was a knock at the door.
Mistress got up and told both slaves to remain in place while she went to see who it was. She strode purposefully to the door and when she opened it was greeted by a man shielding himself from the rain by pulling up the collar of his coat.
"I am sorry to trouble you. I have broken down up the road about a mile away and wondered if I could use your phone. My mobile cant get a signal up here."
Mistress smiled at him and thought about the joy of being brought a man in peril. He had been quite polite in his request and he did look a bit of a pathetic wretch stood hunched over on her doorstep but Mistress could sense cockiness and arrogance in this bloke. He had not even noticed, and he had time to by now, that she was wearing thigh-length leather boots and a short PVC skirt and top. She wondered if he would provide some sport both for her and her friends inside.
"Of course you can, you poor little thing. Please come in to the dry and out of that awful rain."
The man walked in and Mistress shut the door behind him. He shook the rain off himself and doused Mistress slightly. She winced but let it slide and turned to make eye contact with this man and offer her assistance.
As she turned she found him looking at her. Finally he had noticed her boots and clothes.
"Have I disturbed something," he asked with a cocksure smile that said Ive walked in on an orgy here how embarrassing for her, written all over his face.
"No not at all. I was just reading. Hang your coat on the radiator and come on through."
"Sure thanks," he replied.
Mistress knew her first instinct about this man was right. He was a cocky prat who thought he was the bees knees and incapable of humility. He removed his coat as though he owned the place. She couldnt wait until he walked into the sitting room and fell into her web.
"My name is Greg by the way," he said. "I am very lucky to have found you someone like you. I thought I might have come across some right weird old kilt wearing loony out here."
He laughed at what he thought was his joke and looked Mistress up and down and adjusted his body language to chat up mode.
"Shall I go down here," he said. Mistress nodded and he moved off down the hall in front of her.
As she walked behind her guest Mistress bit her tongue and consoled herself against his rudeness and irritating nature with the wake up call he was about to get.
"In here is it?" he asked as he came to door. Mistress nodded and he walked in.
"As you will see it is very comfortable and I am sure you will be pleased to stay here and get out of the weather while you wait. I will help you in any way I can." Mistress spoke with power and squeezed up behind pushing him into the room as he stopped when the statue and footstool registered. Jolted from his arrogant 'I am in here' posture he clung on to her words.
"Yes of course thank you," he found himself saying.
"Sit down Greg," Mistress held out her arm directing him to the chair she wanted him to sit in.
"Footstool."
"Yes Mistress."
"Get up and go to the kitchen and tell dishwasher to make a pot of coffee. Wait until he is finished and bring it back."
"Thank you Mistress," he replied obediently.
Footstool rose to follow his instructions and Mistress sat down on the sofa. She took her cigarettes and lit one. She noticed Greg glancing at statue and shifting in his chair as he looked around the room
"Do you smoke Greg?" Mistress offered her cigarettes.
"Err...no thank you," he stuttered. "Listen I did not think I was disturbing anything. I ...err... will ... errr... use your phone and go if that is alright."
Greg's cocky confidence was waning. He realised that the woman who had greeted him was not alone. That there were men in the house and that she was not some tottie to be chatted up to massage his ego. He knew he was in a situation he might not be able to control and he wanted to get out of it with the least harm done. Mistress could see this written all over his face. She hated him for his rudeness and lack of sincerity. These were crimes in her world and he would pay.
She inhaled on her cigarette and began.
"You have not disturbed me Greg. This is my life. You could have gone to another home and found them watching television and not felt like you had intruded. Well that is how it is here. This is my everyday life. Do you not like it?"
"No, no no, not at all. Each to his own. It is fine by me it was just a ...errr... a suprise I suppose. But ...errr..errrr"
"Good. I am glad you approve. You will call me Mistress, Greg. I have to say that I am not your Mistress. You are too fucking rude and ignorant to have that honour but a Mistress is what I am and so you had better use the term.
Greg was clearly shocked to be so forcefully put in his place. Mistress did not shout, she just spoke calmly and coolly and that matter of factness made it impossible to doubt what she said.
"I am a dominatrix Greg. Do you know what that is?"
"Yes I do."
"Yes what."
"Oh sorry...errr... yes Mistress."
"That's better Greg. I will let you off once but don't forget again. Also never, ever apologise to me. Mistakes are punished. Apologies are empty words. They are useless to me. You have made the mistake, you cannot erase it but you can receive a punishment to atone. Actions speak louder than words don't they Greg."
He arranged the words in his mouth before replying. "Yes Mistress."
"That's better. It is not difficult is it. Now as you are the expert, perhaps you could tell me what a dominatrix is?"
Mistress stubbed out her cigarette while she waited for Greg to reply. She looked at her statue and smiled at him. Mistress knew how he would be amused by the scene in front of him but would know better than to laugh out loud. She wanted him to know that he could enjoy what he was seeing and hearing.
"Well Mistress. It is a…err. Woman that….err dominates men, " Greg replied cautiously.
"Jesus Greg youll be getting a job with the Oxford English Dictionary." Mistress replied sarcastically. "You must know more than that. Expand on it for me. What do you mean by dominate?"
"Well Mistress, they treat men as slaves..err..beat them…tie them up…humiliate them and use their perversions to .control them."
Footstool returned with the drinks just as Greg was finishing his answer.
"On the table please. Kneel on all fours next to me," Mistress said before returning to Greg.
"Perversions. Now there is a term that its dangerous to bandy around. Would you pour please Greg."
"Yes Mistress," he said without conviction.
Greg stood up to pour and Mistress continued.
"Perversions is a word that can be used to judge, dont you think. Its fine if you have perversions you admit to you yourself but from someone such as yourself I think it might be a derogatory term, thats a put down by the way. One mans perversions is anothers normality Greg. I tend to use the word fetish or kink. Less judgemental. Unless of course you have some perversions yourself Greg. Do you?"
Gregs hand was unsteady as he poured. He handed Mistress her cup when he had finished and then poured his own as he answered.
"No Mistress I dont."
"I see. Not really qualified to judge then are you," Mistress told him before turning to her slaves.
"Statue. Move to this wall please," Mistress pointed as she spoke. "Form the same pose, obviously keeping your back to the wall. Footstool. Its time for you to change jobs. Become Cocksucker and pleasure my statue."
"Yes Mistress," both slaves replied in unison.
The wall statue was moving to was directly in Gregs eye line as he sat. Greg sat down as the slaves moved into position and set about their tasks. Greg was obviously unsettled by what he could see.
"I love watching men such each others cocks Greg. I must be a pervert. Do you think I am a pervert Greg?"
"No Mistress I .. dont."
"How brilliantly unconvincing you are. I am a total pervert to be honest Greg. But then I can use the term because my whole life is based around being honest with my desires and living accordingly.
"By the way. Dont be concerned that these men are unhappy. They are bisexual. It pays to be so if you are the personal servant of a woman such as myself. They do not have sex with me. I allow them relief but sometimes not as much as they need and so bisexuality develops. Must be difficult for you to understand."
"No Mistress. I realise that domination is not prostitution." Greg thought that his response was, for once, a good one. He knew that Mistresses did not offer sex. But that phrase domination is not prostitution had loaded Mistresss gun. Without realising it, Greg had given a lot away.
"How do you know that Greg?"
"What Mistress."
"That domination is not prostitution."
"It is just one of those …errr things you pick up."
"No it isnt Greg. You used a precise phrase domination is not prostitution. Where did you pick that up from?"
". Nowhere Mistress," Greg replied.
"Greg. Please do not lie to me or insult my considerable intelligence. I knew as soon as I saw you that you were by nature rude and it has proved to be the case. You still have not thanked me for the coffee you are drinking. Do not make it worse by lying, particularly on a subject I know everything about. Now tell me where did you pick up the phrase domination is not prostitution."
Greg sat very uncomfortably as Mistress fixed him with her stare awaiting his answer.
"I..errr…might have..errr..seen it on the …errr.. internet Mistress."
"On the ..errr…int…err..net," Mistress responded mockingly. "As long sentences seem to be proving a problem for you I now merely require truthful yes or no answers. No more errs will come from your lips. Be very careful now Greg. Failure will lead to you being made to take Cocksuckers place. I believe in consensual domination Greg but fate has brought us together and I will gladly break that rule in this instance, do you understand."
Gregs vulnerability was becoming apparent to him and it struck him as horror. Mistress would remember his current expression forever.
"Yes Mistress," he finally responded.
"Good. Have you looked at websites of Mistresses on the internet?"
"Yes Mistress."
"Is that where you came across the phrase domination is not prostitution?"
"Yes Mistress."
"Does being dominated interest you Greg?"
There was a pause. "Yes Mistress."
"Have you considered visiting a dominatrix?"
There was a very long pause while Greg considered his options. Lying would be a mistake and he could not risk it. "Yes Mistress," he said finally.
"Well, well, well. Would you believe it. Gregs a pervert. Not only that he is a hypocrite. Cocksucker please pause. You have not seen a Mistress though Greg."
"No Mistress."
"What did you hope she would do with you. Obviously you can try sentences again when you answer."
"I dont really know what to say Mistress."
"Ok. I will make it easy for you. Did you expect to be tied up?"
"Yes Mistress."
"So bondage interests you Greg?"
"Yes Mistress."
"What abut beating?"
"Yes Mistress."
"Yes it interests you or yes you expected to be beaten?"
"Both Mistress."
"Good boy Greg. Now you were interested in my boots when you walked in so I guess you have a boot and shoe fetish and probably a foot fetish too. You seemed to like my outfit which suggests you like the domme outfits and probably have a rubber, PVC and leather fixation or, heaven forbid, a uniform fetish."
Mistress could see from Gregs expression that she was spot on and continued.
"So Greg. If you like all these things why are you not happier at the coincidence that you have been brought to me. Do you find me ugly or distasteful in some way?"
"No, no, no, not all Mistress." For the first time he spoke with conviction.
"Prove it. Get on the floor and kiss my boots."
"Excuse me Mistress."
"Kneel on all fours in front of me and kiss my boots. If you dont I will assume you find me ugly and you will be forced by Cocksucker to perform felatio on my statue."
Greg stood up and kneeled on the floor. He bent down cautiously and once in position put his head down and kissed Mistresss footwear.
To Mistress' surprise Greg seemed happy to be kissing her boots. Even though she had identified that he had a boot fetish, she expected him to be as unresponsive as he had been during his visit so far but that was not the case. He kept his head down and got on with it, swapping between boots as Mistress moved and replaced them under his lips.
After a while Mistress asked Greg to stop and return to his chair.
"Well Greg you have surprised me. You seemed to enjoy that. Did you?
"Yes Mistress.
Is it being in front of others that troubles you Greg. Would you prefer it if I asked my slaves to leave the room?"
"Yes please Mistress."
"Ok I will. I have some private instructions for them. Wait here while I give them."
Mistress stood and beckoned Statue and Cocksucker to the far corner of the room.
"Right," Mistress whispered. " Statue go to the dungeon area, release toilet from the box and wait at the other side of the door until your hear my signal which will be two hand claps. Cocksucker, do the same with Dishwasher in the kitchen. When you hear claps enter, over power our guest with whatever force is necessary and strap him down to the rack. He needs to pay for his rudeness but also be exposed to this world. He obviously wants it, it will be good for him. Too much of a coincidence this. I am not wasting it. Go."
Mistress returned to the sofa while the slaves left the room. She looked at Greg who seemed a lot more comfortable.
"OK Greg now it is just the two of us. You have seen how obedient they are, they will not disturb us."
"Thank you Mistress."
"Good. Take your clothes off please. Seeing you naked will please me and I am sure you want to do that.
"Yes Mistress," Greg replied. He looked unsure but he stood and removed his clothes. He lay them on the floor as instructed and sat back down in his chair
"Sit on your hands and cross you ankles. I am going to inspect your cock."
"Yes Mistress." Greg did as instructed. Mistress walked towards him and grabbed his member which swelled instantly. She pulled back the foreskin.
"You are clean."
Mistress walked behind Greg and clapped her hands twice. The sound shocked him but not as much as the terror he felt as two doors opened and four naked men ran towards him. Greg stood but the first two were on to him by the time he was upright. He was overpowered quite easily. Not only was he outnumbered but Mistress's slaves were fit and strong. They dragged him in to the dungeon room as he screamed and struggled. He called Mistress a bitch and shouted that the men were bastards and that he would call the police. Grabbing a leg or an arm each Mistress' slaves picked Greg up and dumped him on the rack, face up. Mistress helped them to secure him to it. Throughout this time Greg struggled and screamed.
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