Chapter One

My iPod was playing in the background, as I surfed the net. I had been checking out a few porn sites and came across one dedicated entirely to Femdom stories, videos and pictures. They peaked my interest a little. No, actually they excited me quite a lot. By the time I finished reading one about a young college guy who was tightly strapped over a bondage horse and having his ass brutally whipped, my cock was as hard as a fireplace poker and steadily dripped drops of per-cum. I read on, as he endured a savage beating from a beautiful woman clad in sexy black leather lingerie.

I pushed my jeans and underwear down to my knees and stroked my dick while I continued with the story. She used a long, thick leather strap to redden his ass and leave dozens of dark purple welts crisscrossing his butt. He screamed and yelled from the intense pain, but his cock was as hard as mine. As the intense whipping continued, he fought and struggled against his bonds, trying to escape the agonizing pain, yet wanting more. I imagined that it was me who was locked helplessly over that padded bench. I wanted to feel every stroke of her whip across my ass. I would have changed places with that guy in a heartbeat. My hand rubbed harder and faster, as the tawse painfully bruised and blistered his tender flesh over and over again. As his Mistress finished his brutal torture, my balls rumbled and roared, releasing their load. Gobs of steaming sperm shot from my hard cock. Long ribbons of creamy cum streamed from my long, throbbing shaft. The immense pleasure of my orgasm raged through me. It was far more intense than ever before. At that moment a profound lust for sexual pain and submission was permanently etched within my brain. I finally leaned back in my chair and caught my breath.

“Holy shit… I wonder where I can find a woman like that,” I asked myself.

After putting that story site into my favorites, I came across some pictures of a beautiful dominatrix who was looking for a slave to serve her. She wore a black leather bra and a tiny little thong. Her fishnet stockings were held up by a matching garter belt, and she wore really tall, stiletto-heeled boots. In her gloved hands was a cat o’ nine tails with vicious looking knots along each of its long, braided strands.

I eagerly studied every inch of that picture over and over. My God, she was magnificent. Finally, I printed it out and hung it on the wall next to my bed. She was my Goddess. I was in love. Something came alive in me that night. I reread that story dozens of times and went to bed every night mesmerized by the picture of my perfect Mistress. I fantasized about being totally naked at her feet and feeling the agonizing, but pleasurable pain of her whip. I jerked off to her image and longed for what she had to offer. I wanted her. I dreamed of serving her. I would be her slave forever.

Hour after hour and day after day I read those stories and was drawn in ever deeper. I couldn’t get those thoughts and desires out of my mind. God, it seemed like I was living with a perpetual hard-on. Even dreams at night contained scenes of bondage and torture, and yet I wanted more.

Those thoughts filled my life, but it was going nowhere fast. Mornings were no better than my evenings. I had flunked out of college and was renting an older, furnished studio apartment by the month in downtown Albany. It wasn’t much, but it would do. I didn’t have a job, but I was eagerly looking for one. There was enough money left from my college loans to last for a few months if I was careful.

Every day I picked up the previous day’s newspaper from the convenience store down the street. The manager there saved it for me, so I could check the classifieds and look for a job. He told me he would give me some part time work as soon as a spot opened up.

During the day I went from store to store lookin