Enthralled – Chapter 3

We drive from the park to Mistress Haley’s home, sitting as close together as we can. Holding hands. Saying very little. Her hair is disheveled, and her blouse is rumpled. Most of her lip gloss is gone. She looks well fucked. She looks wonderful. As we pull into her driveway, and head for the garage attached to the back of the house she leans her head against the back of the car seat as she turns to me and says, “My panties are soaking wet and slimy, and it’s all your fault.”

“Yes it is, Mistress,” I reply. We’ve had this conversation before. It means that at some point in the not-too-distant future I’m going to be standing at the sink in her kitchen, washing those panties by hand. I wonder which pair she’s wearing, because while I felt them rubbing against my cock not-so-very long ago, I haven’t actually seen them, and I love looking at my Mistress’ panties. I say, “Perhaps you’ll allow me to atone for my lack of consideration by washing them for you. I promise I’ll do a good job.”

She smiles at me and says, “That might be very nice. I’ll let you know.”

Then we’re pulling into the garage. She’s sliding across the seat, away from me toward the passenger door, saying “I’m going upstairs to clean up. You lock the garage behind us, undress in the laundry room, and wait for me in the family room.” She slips out of the car, through the laundry room at the head of the garage, and disappears into the house. I do as I’m told. I make sure the garage is locked. Then I go into the laundry room and take off all my clothes. There’s a wicker basket with a lid there that’s for my things, so I fold my clothing the way Mistress taught me to do it, and put everything in there. I make sure the laundry room door that leads into the garage is locked, then I open the other door that leads into the house, and step into the family room.

The house is cool and quiet, although I can faintly hear what may be a shower running some distance away. I can’t place exactly where the sound is coming from, but I can see a small pair of lacy yellow panties lying on the floor. I kneel beside them, and pick them up. I haven’t seen them before, but I’m confident they’re Mistress’s. They’re very wet and slimy in the crotch, so I’m sure she took them off, and left them here for me. This is where she wants me to wait, so I will remain kneeling here until she returns.

The panties weigh almost nothing. They’re no more than two little triangles of yellow lace, held together with narrow elastic. A little earlier this morning I had been imagining that Mistress was wearing pale blue lacy panties, and now here in my hands were the yellow ones she actually had on. These are the panties she had pulled to one side so she could take me in the back seat of the car. I raise the panties to my face and inhale. I smell the perfume Mistress likes to wear mixed with her own girl-scent. Over it all, though, is the pungent smell of sex, and the panties are coated with my own cum, mixed with her juices. I hold them, and wait.

I’m not sure how long I knelt there on the floor. I heard the shower sounds stop after a while. Occasionally I heard footsteps moving back and forth overhead. It’s a funny thing: even though I have been in this house many times since last summer, even though I have been in every one of the downstairs rooms, and even though Mistress Haley has stripped me naked and had me service her in any number of ways down here, I have never been allowed upstairs where the bedrooms are. Mistress says being allowed in her bedroom is special, and she will decide when I deserve it.

After a while I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and I shift position slightly into the display posture Mistress likes. I spread my knees a little farther apart so my cock and balls dangle freely, and are easily available for inspection. I should have my hands behind my back, but that would mean her lacy yellow panties would be hidden from sight, and I’m not allowed to conceal things from her, so I cup both hands in front of me holding the panties. I lower my eyes just as I hear her step into the room.

She stops, and for a while I don’t hear any movement. The room is quiet except for the ticking of the old mantle clock above the brown stone fireplace behind me. I feel the subtle movement of the cool air currents in the room caressing my cock and balls, and ever-so-slightly moving the hairs on my chest as I kneel there, naked, waiting. Just when I’m wondering if it would be alright for me to look up, she softly calls my name.

“Jeremy.”

I raise my eyes to see her quietly standing there, looking at me. My Mistress is now a vision in white. She’s changed into white tennis shoes, white short shorts that fit her like a second skin and emphasize her long tanned legs and her wondrously intriguing flat tummy and pussy. Above that she’s put on a white cami that she’s obviously wearing without a bra, and highlights her beautifully formed breasts. The combination tantalizes me with the promise of cleavage for the moment unseen. Around her wet hair she’s wrapped a white towel and the whole arrangement is piled on the top of her head, and looped and folded within itself for security. With her white clothing and tanned smooth skin she’s a Goddess, and my cock begins to rise as I worship her with my eyes.

She smiles at my growing erection, and says “what a wonderfully obedient boy you are; waiting for me naked, on your knees just as you were instructed.” She closes the distance between us, and wraps her arms around me. She lowers her head, presses her cheek against my forehead, and almost whispers “You look absolutely delicious my love. I never get enough of this, and I’m going to keep you naked almost all weekend.”

Mistress Haley is holding my head to her breast with one hand, and caressing my bare back with the other. I can feel her fingers moving through the hairs on my back. It tickles a little, but mostly it’s enticing, and I’m becoming aroused. My cock is already pressing against her leg. I feel her gently move her leg from side to side, caressing my cock with her soft, smooth skin. She’s pressing me close to her now, so I reach up and put my arms around her, being careful not to touch the wet panties I’m still holding in my right hand against her clothing. She’s slender and feels soft and delicate to my touch, but I also feel a firm core of muscle and female strength just underneath the softness. She smells faintly of soap, wet hair, and powder. My cock is standing straight out from my body, and I want her.

She lowers her head, kisses the top of my head, and almost whispers, “You’ve done very well today, Jeremy, and I’m very pleased with you.” Then she presses that heavenly smooth leg against my cock, strokes me up and down, smiles, and says “I’m very pleased with all of you.” I lift my head to hers and we kiss. I feel her breasts pressing into my collarbone on either side of my throat. I feel her hands roaming over my bare shoulders, and her soft fingers gently brushing the hairs on my back. I press my left hand against her slender back to support her, and hold her close to me. Still holding the wet panties away from her, I stroke the backs of her legs with the back of my right hand. Her skin is soft, cool, slightly damp, and very smooth.

When she lifts her lips from mine, I lay my head back against the bare skin on the upper swell of her breast, and nestle there feeling its softness against my cheek as she wraps her arms around my head pulling me close to her, and runs her fingers through my hair.

“I’m glad I please you, Mistress” I say. I can feel her chest rising and falling as she breathes. I feel the warmth of her body, and I can hear her heart beating.

“What’s the First Rule, Jeremy?” She asks softly.

“Always obey you, Mistress.” I reply.

She gives me a little squeeze. “That’s my sweet boy,” she says. “Rule Number Two?”

“To serve you faithfully and loyally any hour of the day or night.”

“Exactly right, my love; exactly right. And, the Third Rule?”

“To always please you by putting your needs and interests above my own.” I raise my head as I say that, and look into her eyes. She smiles at me, rumples my hair, and says “You are without doubt the best little boy a girl could own. I have many plans for you, Jeremy, and there are many things I’m going to teach you, but you are already wonderful.” She hugs me for a moment, then says, “You may kiss my feet, Jeremy as you did this morning in Mrs. Dumont’s office.”

Now, my erection is still demanding attention, and it’s not particularly interested in kissing leather and nylon tennis shoes, but it’s what my Mistress wants, so it’s what I’m going to do, although maybe not right away. As I lower my eyes from hers I find myself looking down at the swell of her breasts cupped in the soft fabric of her white cami, and the enticing valley of her cleavage. That is more in line with what my erection has in mind, so I lean forward, gently use my cheek to brush the fabric away from her left breast, and take her nipple in my mouth. I kiss it, and roll it between my lips. I feel it swelling as I break the kiss, and slowly lick it with as much of my tongue as I can put on it, then I suck it into my mouth again, and flick the tip of my tongue over it as often and quickly as I can.

Mistress Haley sighs a soft exhalation of breath, and I feel her body relax against me. I hold her in my arms as I lift my head away from the firmness of her now aroused and straining nipple, then suck it back into my mouth again for another long, deep kiss. My cock is now throbbing, and Mistress speaks into my hair saying, “Oh God that’s wonderful, Jeremy. I love the little shocks it sends through me.”

It’s sending big shocks through me.

Mistress squeezes me against her breast, and inhales so my mouth is full of her glorious softness. I slowly increase the pressure of my sucking, and continue flicking her nipple with my tongue. Mistress sounds a little out of breath as she says, “I would be happy if we spent hours doing this, and one day soon we will,” but she pulls back from me slightly and adds “However, you were instructed to kiss my feet.” So I stop sucking on her nipple even though we were both enjoying it, and saying “Yes, Mistress” I crouch before her.

I kiss the top of her right shoe. On the one hand I’m pleased to be doing what Mistress wants, but on the other hand it’s not all that enticing. Kissing and licking her sandal clad feet in Mrs. Dumont’s office this morning was enticing. I could feel Mistress’ soft skin under my lips, I tasted her when I licked her feet from toes to ankle and back again, and she even wiggled her toes slightly when I sucked on them. There was life there, and sex, and I was affecting it. Her tennis shoes on the other hand are comparatively hard and stiff. They’re lifeless, and they taste dusty. Of course, I have to admit that crouching naked at the feet of a beautiful young girl with my face almost on the ground, and kissing her shoes because she has ordered me to do so produces its own excitement, and it too is sex, so my erection shows no sign of softening. That part of this I really enjoy.

It doesn’t take long until I’ve kissed my way up Mistress’ shoes, and I’ve reached her bare ankles. I was just putting my lips on the outside of her left ankle when she said, “This time, Jeremy, you can go all the way to my knees.”

Have I told you how much I enjoy kissing Mistress’ legs? They are so perfectly formed, so soft on the surface yet firm underneath, and so smooth that I am entranced whenever I’m allowed to kiss, touch, or caress them. I kiss and lick my way up the outside of her left leg to her perfectly dimpled knee, across her kneecap to the inside of her leg, and then I kiss and lick my way down again. It’s wonderful. My cock is so full, and so hard that the tip of the head is pressing into the floor as I crouch there. I go up her right leg, and down. My heart is beating fast. My hands are trembling, and I’ve developed tunnel vision. All I see or want to see are my Mistress’ legs. I want to kiss and lick them forever. However, my young Goddess allows me only a few minutes, then she brings it to an end. “Thank you, Jeremy. You may stop now. It’s time for us to go outside so you may dry and brush my hair.”

She had brought a hair dryer and brushes with her when she came downstairs, so I gather them up, and follow her through the kitchen to the patio. I was still holding her lacy yellow thong panties, but she motioned to me to leave them on a counter top near the sink. She selects an area under the patio cover so the sun won’t dry her hair too fast. She’ll want dry, and she’ll want style. She won’t want frizzy and sun-bleached. I move a patio chair to the place she indicated. It’s shady but with plenty of light so I can see as I work on her hair. I put a side table next to it, and go back into the house to get a tall glass of iced tea for Mistress. She prefers it with crystal-clear commercial ice cubes, and just a hint of sweetener. Then I plug in the hair dryer, and stand behind her as she unwraps and unfolds the towel around her head and shakes her hair loose.

When Mistress first taught me how to dry and style her hair I wasn’t sure I was going to like it. It’s much more involved than dealing with my own hair… I rub my wet hair with a towel after showering, then run a comb through it… but I just wind up with dry hair. She winds up with a glittering paean to her femininity and beauty. Her dark brown hair is naturally highlighted with shades of red and gold. It catches the sunlight, and draws attention to her wide eyes and prominent cheekbones. When she flips it over her shoulder as she turns her head it draws attention to her. It compliments her personality, and emphasizes her body. Some of that is what God gave her when she was born. Some of it is what she’s learned to do since then. Now she is teaching me. I resisted at first, but I came around. As I thought about it I realized I had reservations only because being sexy and beautiful has never been my goal, so it took me a little time to fully appreciate how deeply it is her goal. My breakthrough came one morning in the Dora Dufran High School cafeteria when it hit me as I watched a group of girls braiding each other’s hair, and gossiping about trivial things. They seemed to be having a wonderful time, and I suddenly realized, “They’re bonding with each other! They are each drawing closer to the other through shared common experience!” I suppose everyone else already knew that, but I didn’t. Once I had taken that step, the next step seemed obvious even though it had been completely hidden from me up ‘til that time: “Mistress is offering me the same bonding experience! She’s trying to draw me closer to her, and like a fool I’ve been resisting!”

I felt like Archimedes. I wanted to leap to my feet and run out the door crying “Eureka! I have found it!” I felt I’d burst if I didn’t run immediately the two blocks to Mistress Haley’s school, and beg her forgiveness. I’d rush into her classroom, fall on my knees beside her desk, and tell her I loved her and was eager to learn anything and everything she was willing to teach me. I would promise her that I would do better, and be better from now on. Then we’d hold hands and walk off together into a rosy sunset of future hair styling lessons as the violins in the background swelled to the inevitable romantic close, and the movie faded to black. There wouldn’t be a dry eye in the house.

In the end, though, I did nothing of the kind. The day’s opening bell hadn’t sounded yet. It was a couple of minutes away, so I waited quietly in the cafeteria until it rang, then I went to class.

I did, however stop resisting, and I paid much more attention to what Mistress was saying and doing from then on. She also had me practice on her, so today I generally know what I’m doing when I work on her hair. I lift it with a round styling brush, working the hot blast from the dryer under her hair from the scalp out to the ends, and finish with a little twist I’ve learned that maintains the pleasing flip at the ends of her hair. I work my way up from the nape of her neck, drying and styling in layers. We gossip and chat about trivial things, and we laugh at shared anecdotes. Every now and then I lean forward and whisper compliments in her ear, that’s my own touch to the process: “Your hair is magnificent, it’s the perfect shape for your face, and sets your skin tone off wonderfully.” Or, “I never cease to be amazed at how wonderfully your hair catches the sunlight, and sparkles like jewels. It is incredibly attractive.” Today I tell her her regular stylist must be a genius because her hair not only looks gorgeous, but it’s so well designed and cut that it falls into place with almost no effort. I know that her mother cuts and styles her hair, so I may be engaging in a little flattery there, but I’m also telling the truth. Mistress’ hair is well cut.

Of course I also take advantage of the opportunity to look down her camisole across the swell of her breasts and into the cleavage between them. Once when I did that I was looking right at her nipples and down to about the middle of her perfectly formed tummy. That sort of thing really focuses my attention, and I find it difficult to continue chatting about nothing in particular while looking down her blouse.

I am of course also doing this while naked. I’m moving around Mistress from side to side, stroking and brushing her hair, our bodies in close proximity, and she likes to touch those she’s talking to so it’s probably no surprise that every now and then I feel a small, soft hand brush across my cock, or stroke my rear. We each pretend we don’t notice, but when it happens the muscles in my groin and at the bottom of my abdomen give a noticeable jump.

Time passes quickly that way, and before you know it I’m finished and handing Mistress a round, double-sided make up mirror so she can check on what I’ve done. She looks it over in the regular reflection, then turns it around and uses the magnifying side. “Well done, Jeremy” she says, “well done. This is the best you’ve done yet.”

I gather up the hair dryer, the brushes and combs, and the other styling tools. Mistress Haley takes them inside while I move patio furniture so we can eat lunch outside. It seems odd to me, with everything that’s happened today that it’s not yet 1:00 o’clock. It was only about three and a half hours ago that I was summoned to Mrs. Dumont’s office, and found myself crawling on my knees with a raging hard-on waving in the air as my school Principal transferred legal ownership of me to the young girl who’s now got me waiting on her hand and foot, naked, in her backyard,

I sit at Mistress Haley’s left hand as we eat lunch on the patio. That puts me close to the French doors that lead into the kitchen so I can quickly bring her anything she may require. At one point I was standing beside her chair, refilling her glass with ice water from a moisture-frosted pitcher when she got a call on her cell phone. It was one of her girlfriends from Josephine Hensley Middle School, calling during their lunch hour. I heard Mistress reassuring her that she wasn’t ill. “No, Mollie, nothing like that. I was actually at school this morning, but I left before the opening bell.” Mistress was looking right at my cock when she said, “something came up that I had to deal with.” She reached behind me, and stroked my ass while she listened to her friend’s next question. “No, no problem. In fact it was quite pleasant as soon as I took matters into my own hands.” She squeezed my ass, and looked up into my eyes with a sultry sort of smile as she said that. I stood there, half holding my breath as the unseen Mollie made some fairly long comment in response. I could hear her voice muttering in the receiver pressed against Mistress’ ear, but I couldn’t make out any of the words. Mistress was running her hand over my ass and up and down the backs of my legs when she told her friend not to come over after school. “I’m sorry, Mollie, but I have a major distraction to deal with this weekend, and I’m going to be very occupied. I won’t have a free moment until Sunday morning.”

Another pause. Another squeeze.

“Uh huh…. Yes, I’ll see you at church.”

Pause

“I’m going to wear that purple dress Mama and I bought last week.

“That’s right, with the cap sleeves and the gold belt. I found the perfect little sandals to go with it. About a two inch heel, and gold straps that perfectly match the belt. I thought I’d pull it together with gold jewelry.”

They chatted about shoes and clothes for a little longer. I stood there with the dripping wet pitcher of water in my hands, and Mistress’s hand stroking my bare ass and my rapidly stiffening cock through her conversation.

After they said their goodbyes and disconnected, Mistress looked at me and asked, “Don’t you think you ought to put that pitcher of water back in the kitchen?” Then she gave me a radiant smile, and giggled. “Honestly,” she said, “you’re such a distraction.”

We both cleared the table after we ate. Mistress Haley put the leftover salad, fruit, and cold cuts into the refrigerator, while I rinsed off the strawberry pattern luncheon plates and glasses, and loaded them into the dishwasher. She was once again sitting in her chair at the patio table when I came out with a damp dishcloth to wipe it off. I was just beginning to clean it when she stopped me. “Jeremy,” she said, “Come here to me.”

I left the dishcloth on the table, and knelt beside her, making an effort to show proper respect with my knees apart and my eyes downcast. The afternoon was warm, and it was peaceful and sunny in Mistress’ secluded backyard. I could hear the murmuring of the water flowing over the artificial waterfall that re-circulates and cleans the water in her swimming pool. A songbird was singing in one of the trees that enclose the property. Otherwise all was still as I waited for Mistress to acknowledge me.

She did so by taking my cock in her small, soft hand. She held it as though she were considering a purchase. She gently squeezed me, and slightly bounced the shaft of my cock up and down, feeling its weight and firmness, and taking the measure of its size. I couldn’t help sharply inhaling as I rapidly began to grow erect under her touch, and I felt her other hand sliding my foreskin back from the helmet it protected. Jolt after jolt of electric shock ran through me as she ran her fingers up and down the sensitive underside of my cock’s head, and I heard her murmur a soft “mmmm.” I was losing myself in the sensations when she asked me, “What’s the Second Rule, Jeremy?” That took me by surprise. I had to practically fight my way back to this side of reality, but I managed to croak out in a hoarse whisper, “To, to serve you faithfully and loyally any hour of the day or night, Mistress.”

“That’s my smart boy,” beamed Mistress Haley, now with one hand stroking my cock while the other caressed my balls, “you actually got that out at a time like this. I’ll bet most other boys couldn’t do it.” Then she asked, “Why do you suppose I keep you naked, Jeremy?”

That’s not something I’ve given much thought to, and right now I’m not at my conversational best as Mistress rolls my balls from side to side in her hand while I’m kneeling naked beside her. I raise my eyes to help me concentrate, and find she’s leaned forward in her chair so I’m once again looking down her top to the perfect, soft mounds of her breasts. I can clearly see that her breasts are blushing a rosy pink, her aureoles are all crinkled, and her nipples are standing proudly out from her body. I am thrilled with the sight, but it’s not helping me answer her question, so even though I really don’t want to, I close my eyes and try to concentrate. “Uh, it’s to teach me, uh, obedience and respect, and to, uh, remind me that I’m completely yours.” That even sounds lame to me, but it’s the best I can come up with under the circumstances.

“Well, yes” she says. “Partly, but it’s not the most important part.” I can feel her lean forward even more, but I’m not going to look. Then my Mistress whispers in my ear, “I keep you naked because I love looking at you without any clothes on. I love fondling you and feeling your cock get big and hard. Mostly, though, I love the way you make me feel when I’m on top of you, fucking you with your big, beautiful cock inside me.” Sometimes my Mistress says things that are way beyond what any other 12 year old girl would say. Sometimes she says things even I wouldn’t be likely to say. “I plan on doing a lot of fucking this weekend, Jeremy, because you and I are alone here together.”

That’s news to me. I knew her mother wasn’t here now, but it’s Friday and she has a business to run, so I didn’t expect her until this evening. I open my eyes, and look at her in surprise when Mistress says, “My mother and your mother are spending this long weekend at some resort in the Caribbean. They won’t be back until Tuesday afternoon.” She adds, “There’s no one here, and there’s no one at your house either. I’ve got you all to myself for four days, and I intend to take full advantage of the opportunity.” Then she gives my cock and my balls a long squeeze, releases me, and says “Now, stand up so I can have a good look at you.”

She has me stand in front of her, straddling her crossed legs while she moves my throbbing cock out of the way, and runs a fingertip along the silver chain she fastened around my balls weeks ago. I’ve got my hands on top of my head, as ordered, while she lifts the engraved ID tag fastened to the chain and looks at it. “What does this say, Jeremy?” She asks.

“It says “property of Haley Thompson,” Mistress,” I reply.

“And who put it here?”

“You did, Mistress, the day I promised I would belong to you from then on.”

“Have you ever removed it?”

“No, Mistress. Only you are allowed to do that.”

Satisfied, she has me turn around so she’s looking at my back. She views my left side; my right side. She has me stand with my legs as far apart as I can, while she swings my balls back and forth. She has me run in place and do jumping jacks so she can watch my erect cock flop around. She runs her hands all over me; up and down my legs, over my chest, and across my back. I end up back where I started, kneeling beside her while she strokes my cock with one hand and kneads my balls with the other.

“What’s the Third Rule, Jeremy?”

“To please you by always putting your needs and interests above my own, Mistress,” I say.

“Final question, Jeremy: why are you not allowed upstairs in this house?”

“Being allowed even on the same floor with your bedroom is special, Mistress. I’m not to be allowed up there until you’re satisfied with me, and take me up there yourself.”

Mistress puts her hands on either side of my face, looks me right in the eyes and says, “I’m satisfied. I’ll be taking you into my bedroom this afternoon, and you’ll be sleeping there with me tonight.” While I’m absorbing that, my beautiful, young, old-for-her-years Mistress adds, “I also want you to know, my obedient sexy boy, that thought makes me horny as Hell.”