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My heart was pounding as I stripped naked in my bedroom and prepared for darling daddy's arrival â€“ OK, stepdaddy to be precise, but fuck him, for the purposes of my story I'm calling him "daddy".
I'd trapped him with evidence of his philandering with a San Diego dominatrix and I could see the potential to make a nice little sum each week by replacing her.
Now I had to get it right. I decided the first way was to stun him with my body â€“ so I've got small, 33 inch breasts, but lovely nipples, a little landing strip of brown hair on my mons, the rest is shaved, good legs and a great little arse. My lovely brown hair tumbles to my arse.
All I put on were my black leather, lace-up fuck-me boots. That gave me almost as much height as Rob, mom's new hubby.
The dark-haired 38-year-old would almost be here. I checked the mirror, placed the bowl that was going to be an important part of my first scenario with him on the dressing table and waited, hands on hips, in the center of my bedroom with what I hoped was a stern "Do as I fuckin' say" look.
There was a light tap, almost timid on my bedroom door, and I decided to go the "boots and all" route.
"Get the fuck in here!" I snarled, and the muscle-ridden creep entered, his little black satin thong revealing his expectations â€“ the pervert!
Rob closed the door behind him and stood nervously in front of me.
"Oh for fuck's sake," I shouted, "is this any fuckin' way to enter a mistress's bedroom?"
He looked a little shamefaced and mumbled: "Er, no, sorry Paula."
"Mistress fuckin' Didi, you cunt," I almost screamed.
"Sorry, Mistress Didi, I'm sorry Mistress Didi," he grunted.
"Next time you have an audience with me you enter on your fuckin' knees, you filthy pervert!" I snapped. He gazed at me, drinking in my nudity.
"Well?" I yelled.
"Er, well what, Mistress Didi?" he asked, the stupid cunt.
"Get on your fuckin' knees, you fuckwit," I ordered and he sank to his knees and put his hands behind his back. It was then that I knew the battle of wills was over, he was mine. Now it was simply a question of how far I would go. Time to find out.
"And tell me, Mr Pervert, do you present yourself to your fuckin' Mistress Victoria clothed?"
He shook his head and whispered: "No, Mistress Didi."
"Well get that fuckin' thong off then," I snapped and he hooked his thumbs into the garment and pulled it away. Here I had to be fuckin' careful. I've not seen many cocks â€“ I don't let boys fuck me â€“ yet I knew this was something special.
Rob's erection soared into lift-off mode revealing at least nine inches of veined muscle, circumcised, hairless â€“ not even on his pubic bone. Must have been the way mom liked him! His ball sac was huge, heavy and hairless, as well.
Then I spotted a gleaming metal ring around his cock and balls.
"What the fuck's that?" I demanded.
"It's my engorgement ring, mistress," he said, quietly.
"A fuckin' engorgement ring? That's something old men wear to help keep their cock up, isn't it, Mr Pervert?" I inquired.
"It feels great and Mistress Victoria always insisted I wear it, mistress," he answered.
"Well Mistress Victoria must have had the right idea. You will always wear it for me, too," I ordered.
Now it was time to push him further. "There's no room here for a golden shower, and I'm fucked if I'm taking you into the shower for one," I told him. The cunt looked disappointed!
"But since I'm bursting for a piss, I'll piss into that bowl there, then you can drink it!" I informed him.
"Drink it!" he almost shrieked.
Then I reminded him of his manners: "Drink it, Mistress Didi â€“ and yes, you're gonna fuckin' drink it, Mr Pervert.
"Your tired old hag of a Mistress Victoria may only have given you golden showers, I'm gonna give you golden cocktails."
I had no idea what term the punishment perverts gave to drinking the piss down, but I made a guess. Golden cocktails, golden champagne, golden fuckin' chardonnay, what did I care as long as the fucker drank it!
"Get the bowl and put it beneath my pussy, so I can piss," I commanded and the pervert did!
"Now hold it steady and get every fuckin' drop," I told him, before unleashing a strong, steady stream of my golden piss into the bowl. For a moment or two I was afraid I'd overflow the fucker, and I had no idea what we'd do then, but thankfully my stream dried up just before the brim.
"Put it back on the table, then come and clean my pussy," I told him.
I'd given some consideration as to whether I'd permit him pussy adoration rights, but I thought I'd go ahead. I reckoned he'd adore licking teenage pussy, I also reckoned it would possibly be tastier for him than Mistress Victoria's tired old jungle. And I reckoned that once he'd gotten a taste for my snatch he'd be my sex slave for ever! Or until I could find a younger model!
Rob crawled, still on his knees, to my dressing table and put the bowl back, being careful not to slop any, I noticed with interest. Then he crawled back and knelt right in front of my snatch!
I had to be careful here â€“ no catch in my voice betraying my excitement, I had to stay firmly in Mistress Did mode!
"Well get the fuck on with it," I snarled, and stood with my feet a little wider.
Rob's tongue snaked out and licked up my piss flips, then down the other side, then into the cleft, flicking at my urethra. Next I sensed he was about to explore lower, to my cunt, and I had to call a halt to that! Cunt and anus licking would follow, but right now I couldn't afford to reveal my excitement.
"That's enough, Mr Pervert, get back!" I told him, and he backed away, licking his fuckin' lips like the cat that's licked the cream!
Now it was time to go to the ultimate test of his sexual slavery to me. The piss drinking! I was pretty confident I'd got him, but you never know with perverts, the old cunt could baulk at the final hurdle.
So now I switched into a slightly more tender mode. I ran my hand through his wiry, jet-black hair.
In a voice that was almost kindly, I purred: "You know why you've gotta drink my piss, don't you, darlin' daddy?"
He looked up me with those deep brown, puppy dog eyes. "Yes, Mistress Didi, I do," he said, in hushed tones.
"And why's that, darlin' daddy?" I said, also in a low, quiet voice.
"Because I'm your sex slave, Mistress Didi," he said, swallowing deeply, but coming out with the confession.
Yes! Now I knew he was mine utterly and totally.
"Fetch the bowl, darlin' daddy," I told him and he crawled over to pick it up and brought it back to his position in front of me.
"Bring it up to your mouth, but don't drink till I give the word," I ordered.
Rob brought the nearly brimful bowl to his mouth and looked up at me.
"Smell it, tell me how wonderful it smells," I instructed.
He took a deep breath and inhaled. "It smells lovely, Mistrsss Didi," he replied, quietly.
"You can do better than that, try again," I said, though secretly I was absolutely fuckin' delighted!
"Your glorious urine smells absolutely wonderful, Mistress Didi, please give me permission to drink your sweet feminine nectar," he gabbled, going far further and far faster than I'd expected.
Well, if that's what he wanted, why disappoint him?
"Take a gulp, darlin' daddy," I ordered.
He did! Wonderful! He grimaced as he swallowed the first gulp, but I noticed that his cock was still rigid!
"How was that darlin' daddy, was that nice and tasty?" I cooed.
"It was wonderful, mistress, absolutely wonderful."
"Then take another gulp," I snapped.
He did. Fuckin' fantastic! "Now put it back on the dressing table," I told him.
Then I walked over to the bowl and dipped my left nipple into the warm liquid. "Get up and suck that nipple clean, you perverted cunt!" I ordered.
His mouth was hot to the touch as he encircled by erect young nipple and sucked the urine from it. Then I dipped my right breast, dipped it deep.
"Clean my breast," I told my sex slave, and the 38-year-old ran his tongue feverishly all over the gleaming globe!
"Now finish the bowl off â€“ one swallow," I told him.
"So," I said, when he'd finished drinking my piss down, "how was that daddy?"
"It was lovely, thank you Mistress Didi," he replied, in a quiet voice.
"Well," I said, being unable to resist the urge to stroke his turgid hard-on, pre-cum drooling from its piss slit, "there's plenty more where that came from."
"Now, Mr Pervert, how much would an introductory session like that cost you with Mistress Victoria?" I inquired.
"It would be around $400, Mistress Didi," he said, looking me straight in the eye. "Would you like me to pay you now?"
"Sure, go fetch it," I told him, and away he went, picking up his discarded thong on the way out.
I felt between my legs â€“ I was gushing sex juice, I had never, ever, been so fuckin' excited!
Soon Rob was back, again executing a timid little knock on my door. "Get in here, Mr Pervert," I called and he entered again, this time in his little satin thong, his erection straining against the material.
"What the fuck!" I exploded. "Don't you ever do any fuckin' thing right, Mr Pervert? Naked, get fuckin' naked!"
And again I thrilled in my control over him as he slid the shiny garment from his crotch to stand before me nude.
"On your fuckin' knees, daddy," I told him and the stiff-pricked slave sank once more onto the floor. Then he handed me four lovely crisp $100 bills. I looked at the picture of Benjamin Franklin and wondered: was he a pervert? Probably not.
I ran one against my pussy lips and pressed it to my face.
Money had never smelled so good!
To be continued.