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My Experience with Mistress Kasia
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: August 12th, 2017

So, for the first time ever, I get to write a true one. This story is about a very special Dominant that I had the profound pleasure of meeting last June.

I first saw Mistress Kasia at the Getty in Malibu, an event was hosted their and we both happened to attend. I spent the majority of the lunch not making eye contact with her, she had a strong presence that I felt saw right through me the few times she looked my way; she had the attention of all the men around her so I didn't really consider myself on her radar.

I enjoyed talking with friends for the remainder of the lunch, enjoying the beautiful grounds of the old museum. As we wrapped up and our party mulled about, I saw her looking over the amphitheater. I mustered some courage and took a place on the railing next to her. I don't remember what I said exactly, probably a comment on how magnificent the architecture is (and it really is). I also know I mentioned that I started hosting a munch for humiliation which really seemed to pique her interest.

She was in a hurry to go so we quickly exchanged FetLife usernames and then she was gone. I swore I'd probably never hear from her again but I'd message and friend her as soon as I got home.

But she'd already messaged me later that day. That was exciting. What was even more exciting is, the more we talked, the more I realized how much Mistress Kasia enjoyed the things I wanted to enjoy. I felt I could tell her about my fart fetish right away and she even encouraged me to talk openly about it.

I became eager to prove myself to her. And, in many ways, I was eager to prove it to myself and add it to some metaphorical scorecard that I could be a slave; that I could actually do the work and be a desired object.

The first time we hung out, I drove her to see the beach and she listened to me talk about myself, trying to get to know me. I recall we talked about bondage and caning at one point, I'd made a long point about how it's a slave's job to just sit there and take whatever his Domme is giving him; I'd alluded that I'd try to do that as well as I could. She smiled dismissively after my long spiel and said, "I don't think you've ever really been caned."

Despite the ominous razzing that evening, she seemed impressed with me, at least preliminarily.

I'd spend the next two days sweating profusely, cleaning her kitchen, her bathroom, and doing yard work in 90+ degree weather. She kept me well hydrated while I worked. I'd soon learn this was all in preparation for a small dinner party which I was ordered to serve as butler for.

I came over the next afternoon to help finish the preparations for the party and then Mistress Kasia allowed me to shower before the party. As I started to dress in the backroom, she came in holding something.

"Do you know what this is?" She asks me, her eyes staring through me on her expressionless face.

"A...a rope, Mistress?"

She smiles a little, "Very good, do you know what it's for?"

I thought for a second but, really, I had no idea, "No Mistress."

She started to untie the dark purple rope from the very neat knot it was in, "This is to tie your balls."

That worried me. I know I probably tried to keep my face neutral but, inside, I had no idea what that meant. She took a seat on the chair and stared at me for a moment. I stared back at her.

It almost made me jump when she spoke, "Bring your balls over to me, I'm not going to do all the work," she said sternly, she seemed angry. That quickly became further motivation for me to not screw up.

I scurried over to her and she grabbed my sack, ensuring my testicles were both present in the lower part of the scrotum.

"Watch me, you're going to do this at home on your own for me," she stared up at me, still every bit as intimidating. She also had my balls in her hand so that might have had a little to do with it too.

She quickly demonstrated how to tie the rope around my testicles in a way that would ensure it was tight and secure enough to feel it but not too tight as to damage her property. She made it clear that my "clit" was hers now and she wanted to see it caged.

Chastity is not something I'd thought about, I assumed I prove myself a good enough boy to avoid the actual device but she quickly dispelled that thought. A slave is always a slave, there's no levels, just the discretionary kindness of the Owner.

She finished tying the rope and, despite the pressure it exerted on my sack, it really was a tidy tie that I had to admire her work on. None I did on my own would ever look like when she ties it and even fewer of mine stay properly tied.

She orders me to pull up my khaki pants that I was told to wear and then hands me a tuxedo jacket with a subtle smile on her face. I put on the coat that's just a half size or so too small but it mostly works and she seemed to adore the look.

Then she ordered me to work. I spent most of the early evening cleaning the table outside, setting dining ware, and bringing out food for the party. It started with shrimp cocktail and some wine as the guests arrived. I stood, arms folded behind my back as they all talked and laughed.

At one point, Mistress Kasia carelessly tossed a cold shrimp onto the outdoor tile floor that I had cleaned throughly the day before.

"Eat that," she said, barely looking at me.

I bend down and start to reach for the wayward shrimp when I hear her say, loudly, "Uh-uh!"

I stop immediately and look to her.

"You never use your hands, eat it off the floor like an animal."

I look to her, stunned but also a bit excited. It didn't seem like that sort of thing was real but here I was, eating a piece of shrimp off the floor, in a tuxedo jacket, as five people watch me.

I kneel down and gobble the shrimp from the floor as Mistress Kasia reminds me not to eat the tail. One of the guests, Corrine, commented on my obedience which Mistress proudly boasted about how far I'd come in just a few days with her.

I'd soon clean up the shrimp cocktail and bring out dinner. I don't remember what was served except for the potato salad that Mistress Kasia made. When she was done, she set her plate on the ground and ordered me to eat her leftovers.

I did as she told me, finishing the plate, before finally cleaning off dinner from the table. I'd pour a few more glasses of wine before the party moved to the dungeon which had been converted from the house's garage.

Mistress ordered me to rub lotion on Corrine's legs. I did poorly at the start which prompted Mistress to give me a lesson on how to do it properly, and Corrine seemed happier with the job I was doing after that.

Later, as Corrine was ordered to please her husband orally, I was given permission and told to lick Corrine's asshole. The command gave me pause at first which Mistress was quick to shake off me by telling me to do it now.

As I approached Corrine's ass, all I could think about is how a dream of mine was coming true. It didn't require a huge build up, it was ordered of me as if it was as normal as rubbing feet.

Eagerly I lapped at Corrine's ass, enjoying the subtle taste of her with each pass but as she crouched her body down, I failed to keep my tongue against her butt. Mistress Kasia scolded me and told me it was enough, I felt disappointed to end that on a low note.

Mistress spent the rest of the night caning my butt and using me as a footstool. When everyone left, she ordered me into the cage for part of the night where I barely recall sleeping.

Still, I felt far more rested in the cage than I did when she tightly chained my wrists and my ankles. I think I woke up at least every twenty minutes as I felt my muscles quake as my legs beg to be separated and the mocking clink of the chains was the only reply. There was no relief. I wasn't going to call out, I was just going to accept it and keep reminding myself that I'd be freed eventually.

I wanted to be a good boy and not complain.

The next evening, Mistress came into the backroom with a green scarf, a jar of Vaseline, and a sizable jet black dildo. "Beg me to stretch your pussy," she says dryly.

I wasn't even entirely sure what she meant but, looking back, it would take an idiot not to realize what she was asking. "Pl-please stretch my pussy, Mistress."

She moans a little as she leans down near me, "Convince me you need it, pig."

I close my eyes a moment, overwhelmed by her presence over me and my desire to please her above everything else. "Please stretch my pussy, Mistress; I need my pussy stretched."

"Why pig?" She asks sternly.

"Because Mistress desires it," I say, almost without thinking.

She smirks, "Lube up the dildo."

"Yes Mistress," I say as she hands me it and the Vaseline; I lay a thick coat on.

Then she shows me how to tie the scarf she customized. It goes around the waist and down between the crotch like a harness; the balls slide into a hole she cut in the scarf and act as part of what keeps the dildo in tight.

She takes the dildo from me and orders me onto my back with my legs up and back, just like if I was taking a dick in my pussy. She slowly but firmly starts to ease the dildo in and, almost immediately, my eyes bulge. I squeal out softly, feeling the terrible pressure of the dildo barely in my asshole.

"What's wrong, pig?"

"I feel like I'm going to expel waste, Mistress," I struggle to say.

"I know, but you're not. We'll put a towel under you. Just relax," she says sincerely.

"Yes Mistress," I cry out a little as I feel the dildo push in a little further, past what I'd later best describe as the second of four gates.

"Pl-please..." I stammer, somewhat wanting to stop this but not wanting to displease or disappoint Mistress.

"What pig?"

"Nothing Mistress," I respond.

"Would you feel better doing this yourself, at your own pace?" She asks.

"Pr-probably not Mistress," I say honestly.

"Okay..." she says and pushes the dildo in a little deeper.

I groan out loudly as I feel completely like I'm going to shit myself but, of course, even if I was, I couldn't with the dildo in my ass.

I feel my body shaking, almost trembling from the force of the dildo in my pussy. I moan weakly as Mistress puts the strap over the back of the dildo and looks at me.

"Now I want you to turn onto your side, slowly."

"Yes Mistress," I sizzle through gritted teeth as I turn onto my side, feeling every little adjustment against the dildo in my asshole.

"While you're doing that...," she trails off as she ducks into the bathroom. I hear the toilet cover lift against the tank, followed by the sound of Mistress' piss splashing against the water in the bowl.

Finally, I get on my side, breathing heavily like I'd just ran a mile. I hear the toilet flush inside the bathroom, the tank running for a few seconds before the door opens and Mistress sees me laying on my side like a helpless turtle.

She smiles, "Good piggy, now crawl to the bathroom."

"Yes Mistress," I groan, turning onto my hands and knees; I slowly crawl into the bathroom where Mistress lifts the toilet seat up for me.

"Put your head in the toilet, face down."

I look at Mistress confused for a moment.

She glares at me, expectantly, "Now cunt."

"Yes Mistress," I respond quickly, rushing my head into the toilet bowl so I face the water.

"I shouldn't have flushed before I called you in here," she regrets.

I remained silent, focused on Mistress' commands.

She lowers the seat and the lid over me. Then she puts tape over the lid and my back, "This tape will show me if you moved or not."

"Understood Mistress," I say, feeling the ache in my knees already starting before she's even left the room. I stare at the clear water in the toilet bowl as I hear Mistress shuffle around a bit.

"I'll be back to check on you later, you are not to disturb me unless it's an emergency, understood cunt?"

"Yes Mistress," I say, trying to subtly readjust my position to alleviate the stinging on the front of my calves.

Mistress turns out the light and the bathroom quickly falls silent. With each little movement I made, I could hear the tape pulling against my back, reminding me to keep still as best as I could but the growing pain started quickly became too much. I wasn't sure what to do about it, however, and soon found myself sobbing softly and repeating to myself that, "I'm a good boy."

She'd later correct that "I'm a good toilet boy," when she found out I was practically crying. That would likely be the last time I was confused about a slave getting special treatment just for being obedient.

It was a few days later when I saw Mistress again, I was told to come in the afternoon and wait at the foot of her bed until she woke up from her nap.

She groaned sweetly as she stirred and smiled as she saw me, "Good morning pig, kiss up my leg. Start with the feet."

"Yes Mistress," I reply and quickly lean in to peck slowly, sensually against her foot.

"Use your tongue," she adds, barely looking at me.

I start to do so and Mistress, almost immediately, starts to moan a bit. Especially as I flick my tongue over her toes, she seems to enjoy my random technique.

She shoves as many toes as she can into my mouth, "Suck it like a cock bitch," she orders me.

"Yes Mistress," I mumble out with her foot in my mouth as I start to go up and down on her toes.

She groans out in delight, "Mmm, you want that, don't you? You want to suck a cock," she asks rhetorically.

I groan softly, disagreeing but I couldn't say I didn't, somewhat, enjoy what I was doing as my clit was getting hard as I did it.

"You know you do, you can't fight it."

I groan again and continue sucking.

"Enough. Go back to kissing up my leg," she says.

"Yes Mistress," I reply as I return to licking and kissing from the top of her foot to about her thigh before she says anything.

"Are you going to be a good piggy?" She asks.

I had no real idea what she meant but I knew I would always try to be a good piggy for her; "Yes Mistress," I reply.

She pushes my head away from her and sits up on the bed. She pulls down her shorts and grabs a tuft of my hair, pulling my face to her ass.

"Lick it pig, lick my asshole."

I moan out, almost with a stunned laughter over how excited I was; my clit immediately became rock hard as I lapped against Mistress' asshole.

"Stick your tongue in my asshole, deeper!" She orders me.

I work hard to try to ensure my tongue goes in her butt as best as I can do and, luckily, she seemed satisfied with what I was doing.

She pulls my hair a little harder, like a leash, and rubs my face in her crack, "That's right, your my toilet pig, aren't you?" She taunts.

"Yes Mistress," I moan out excitedly, enjoying lapping against her asshole.

She slowly, sensually pulls her shorts back up and stops me, "Good. Go vacuum the living room."

I was almost stunned stiff to be eating Mistress' ass and have it over so quickly, it always made me concerned that I did something wrong but that's almost always been my own irrational worries.

Later that evening, I was working on my laptop on an assignment for Mistress when she came towards me and held her hand out in front of me. In it was a balled up wad of white.

"Do you know what that is?" She asks me.

I honestly didn't. I shook my head.

"I went in the bathroom and pissed on it, put it in your mouth," she orders me.

I felt my clit getting hard as I looked at the piss soaked tissue and leaned in to grab it with my lips like a horse eating from a hand.

"Suck all my piss out of it while you work, got it pig?"

I cheek the wad and respond, "Yes Mistress."

"Good pig."

I didn't taste much from the ball of piss, a subtle hint of urine perhaps as I sloshed it around my mouth and bit it, squirting Mistress' pee from it like the juice from a piece of gum.

It made me feel wholly like her object to have her order me to hold her urine soaked wad in my mouth, to have her use me like that like very few others would. I focused on Mistress as I chewed the rag, unable to break it up enough to swallow it, but able to extract all of Mistress' nectar from it.

Today I did my laundry with Mistress; she taught me how to fold to her standards. When we returned to her home, I unloaded the bags from the car.

"That's all the laundry, Mistress," I say to her.

"Tie your balls, then go sit on the floor outside and wait for me."

"Yes Mistress," I reply. I quickly tie my testicles up with the purple rope and scurry to the porch, taking my usual seat in waiting for Mistress to arrive.

I wait only a moment before Mistress comes and takes her seat. She hands me a bottle of lotion and pushes her feet towards me, "Rub my feet."

"Yes Mistress," I reply and lather the lotion over my hands before I start to run my thumb over her hind foot region. But she quickly stops me.

"Uh-uh! Take off my sandals and rub my heels. Do it right." She snaps at me.

"Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress," I say; it's almost like a mantra now.

I remove her shoe and run my thumbs firmly over her heel. She remained quiet the whole time, I have no real idea if I did a good job but she eventually ordered me to do the other foot and I repeated the same to the same result.

"Enough," she finally says and lifts her feet up onto the love seat, "kiss my feet."

"Yes Mistress," I respond and quickly position myself to kiss Mistress' feet, starting near the toes as I softly rub my tongue over her before each subtly smacking kissing. As I round her toes, onto her sole, Mistress pushes her foot more up against my face.

Like the pig I am, I immediately feel my clit getting hard; I keep licking and kissing her feet, softly groaning as her Dominance over me arouses me further.

"You know, I'm really disappointed you went to see your friend last night," she starts to say, "I hadn't cleaned my ass that well in three days and I was going to have you clean it before I showered."

I moan a little and expel a slightly heavy breath as I think about licking her ass again, let alone her unwashed ass which I knew would be an experience.

I dutifully kiss her feet for a few minutes more before she ordered me to stop.

"Show me your balls," she says.

"Yes Mistress," I reply. I kneel up and pull down my pants; showing her my tied balls and my hard clit.

She moans subtly, "What made your clit hard, pig?" She asks as she puts her foot over it and rubs softly; with her hand, she grabs my balls and checks the knot.

"It was Mistress pressing her feet over my face," I admit easily.

She smirks a little, "Are you excited to be ordering your clit cage?"

I hesitate for a moment, "Yes Mistress." I have very few real concerns about it now, other than the possibility that I may never sleep right again if I won't be able to sleep on my stomach; maybe I can get used to it somehow.

"And you're confident about your sizes?" She asks me.

"Fairly Mistress."

"I think you can pay a little extra for rush service. And you're going to be excited for the punishment pin option that presses against your little clit when ever it tries to get hard."

"No Mistress," I stammer a bit, honestly.

She groans disappointedly, "That would really make my tummy tickle, you're going to reconsider that."

"Yes Mistress," I say, resigning myself to her will.

Her tone quickly turns stern, "This knot is going to come undone any second," she remarks, she uncinches the knot on my balls and reties it.

"Sorry Mistress, thank you Mistress," I respond.

As she finishes, she says, "Pull up your pants. I want you to go home, you'll wear that rope until you go to bed, understand?"

"Yes Mistress," I say, feeling the slight sting of the rope pinching tightly against my skin.

"Good. Go away. Text me as soon as you get home."

I quickly stand and gather my things, "Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress."

She just stares at me in expectation, in her head asking why I'm still looking at her when I should be doing as she asked. That's about the time when I realize my error and continue on my way to following her orders.

That's been my experience with Mistress Kasia so far. I look forward to telling you more when I can. If you're interested, you can reach out to her yourself at

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