Saturday Story 2024 – Week 14 (I Must Obey My Mistress)
A steamy piece is waiting for you on my Patreon. Synopsis below:
Jonathan must do whatever Mistress Pearl tells him to do. A sensual gentle femdom story.
This piece is an expansion/variation of the piece of flash fiction with the same title. However, it almost counts as a new piece because the similarities boil down to the opening premise and a couple of lines. About 90% of it is entirely new and I really like how it turned out. Please enjoy and thank you all.
To read this story before anyone else, head over to my Patreon page and become Spell… B-O-U-N-D, too. The minimum pledge for this type of early access is $5 per month.
A small excerpt is available below:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/101849108
The morning sun peeked from behind a curtain of swirling gray clouds, promising to cast out the darkness for good. Jonathan, who had sleeping on his stomach for the past nine hours, felt a slight tingle in his nose and woke up with a violent sneeze that turned his pillow into a soggy germ festival. Startled, he shook his head and looked down to see that the covers were missing, spread on the floor with no regard for his health or well-being. The dog and cat had been at it again, chasing one another and seeing which one could bring about the most destruction.
Try as he may, his German Shepherd, King, was no match for the fluffy fury of Pepper, a six-year-old tabby cat with vigor and energy to spare. When they weren’t playing around the house, it was customary to see them sitting by the window, looking outside or cuddling on the sofa. They were the best of friends and he loved them both. However, when Jonathan opened his eyes, he didn’t think about their mischievousness at all. Instead, his mind was dominated by a single thought, and that thought was,
I must obey my Mistress.
He got up from bed and stretched before forcing his legs to head into the bathroom. His muscles were sore almost as if they had been turned to stone overnight and were now returning to normal. He found one of his favorite slippers wedged against the door and the other teetering over the open toilet seat. How he had missed out on such commotion was no mystery but a reflection of his state of mind. He was tired, and every time that happened, he slept like a rock. He rescued the endangered slipper from his possible wet and smelly fate and washed his face with running water, the same prevailing idea taking front and center in his half-asleep brain.
I must obey my Mistress.
(…)
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