HOW WE SERVE MASTER

Greer was, both Gretchen and I agree, the oldest woman Master ever dominated and fucked.

She was 72. A doctor and a board member at a Brooklyn hospital.

Her wife Lydia was more than 30 years younger. Lydia was a surgeon. They had been married for eight years.

A lifelong lesbian, Greer had come to believe that to experience the full spectrum of a sexual life, she at least once had to be with a man.

Lydia was bewildered and scared the morning Greer shared her decision.

It couldn’t be just any experience, Greer said. It wouldn’t be just any man.

An acquaintance had told Greer about a wealthy young man certain of Manhattan’s powerful older women had been with.

That the young man was nearly 50 younger than her intrigued Greer — and moistened her.

That he was described as “cold and cruel, yet careful” …

That he owned two beautiful sex slaves …

That his monster cock and his skill with it delivered legendary cums to elderly women …

That he used humiliation like artists use color …

It all intrigued Greer — and moistened her.

And Greer had already been in contact with one of his slaves, Greer told her stunned wife.

Master sent me to her hospital to scope her out. We ate at the cafeteria there and talked for a long while.

She checked all the boxes Master looks for in a woman to dominate and humiliate.

She was aged but still fit. Intellectual and emotionally curious. Tough. Well-spoken. Self-assured. Witty. Professionally successful.

And willpower to burn.

After talking to Master later that day? I called Greer back. And gave her a day and time.

And Master’s address.

“One more thing,” I told her. “Your wife has to there. She won’t watch you with him, but she’ll witness the change in her immediately after Master wrings the self esteem out of you.”

They were arrogant.

And why not? The were strong women with long lives filled with success after success.

And in heavily male-dominated careers.

Years and years of difficult challenges overcome.

And for Greer, now another one. A self-imposed one.

Sexual discipline. Sexual punishment. The overturning of sexual desideration.

Pain. Shame. Thrills.

And — her acquaintance’s description never far from her mind — a “legendary” cum.

Gretchen and I greeted them and sat them down to go over house rules, so to speak.

We gave Greer her safe word and told her that the first time she was alone with Master, she must speak the word so they were in agreement on what it was.

Also, because Master had insisted Lydia be there, she was given a safe word, too. If the waiting and wondering became too much for her, she could use the safe word and she’d be allowed to check up on her wife.

Master. Master. Master.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Typically, when he has a “guest” over, Gretchen and I will escort her back to whichever bedroom or punishment room Master wants to start in.

Not this time.

He suddenly just appeared there in the living room.

Nude.

His enormous cock was about a third erect. As he stared the whole time at Greer, he slowly used his hand to get it fully, diamond-cutter hard.

Greer and Lydia, you might say, were thunderstruck.

“Come,” Master said, turning away from Greer and her dismayed wife.

Greer rose. On already wobbly legs, she followed Master to her chosen fate.

“Hollywood,” Lydia said.

Gretchen and I looked at each other in surprise.

That was Lydia’s safe word. But Master and Greer had only been gone a few minutes.

Still … rules were rules and safe words were safe words.

We took her back and I left her in a hallway with Gretchen while I tracked Greer down.

As I figured she was still undressing in the stripping room.

I took her to see her wife and we left them alone.

About 10 minutes later, Greer called out to us. She said all was OK.

We never figured out what it was all about. Lydia’s nerves was my guess.

I judged enough time had passed for Greer to get naked and mentally prepared. While Gretchen stayed with Lydia, I went to fetch Greer from the stripping room and take her to Master’s main fucking room.

Knowing how much we loved watching his sexual shenanigans, Master let me and Gretchen take turns assisting him.

We two slaves had three ways of dressing in the condo:

1.) When guests were present, we wore black minidresses and black stilettos.

2.) When it was just the three of us in the condo, or Gretchen and/or I were being fucked by a guest or guests, we wore a black slave collar and black stilettos.

3.) When one of us was assisting Master, we wore a black corset and black stilettos.

It was lucky me’s turn to assist.

I went to change out of my dress and fix my hair up into a bun.

Master never allows a woman he dominates to have pussy hair.

Submissive women wave their right to a bush of any sort. That’s a core belief of his.

Greer had lived 72 years without doing anything more than the occasional light trim to her pussy.

I shaved her.

Now she was ready for Master.

Master begins every domination session with a pussy whipping.

And concludes every domination session with a pussy whipping.

He believes nothing strains a submissive’s sense of worth than a literal and symbolic stinging rebuke of her womanhood.

So to the pussy whipping bench we went.

After the pussy whipping, I took Greer to Master’s personal bedroom. But first I made her kneel outside and crawl in.

And I crawled in behind her.

“No woman is ever off her knees in this room,” I told her.

Then I said, “If he instructs you — whatever it is — do it on your knees. And if ordered to move, for god’s sake, make sure you crawl.”

“Remove my shorts with your teeth and take my cock in your mouth.”

Greer obeyed. With difficulty.

Master didn’t deign to lift his feet. When Greer got his shorts to his ankles, she practically had to prostrate herself to tug them out from under his soles.

Then …

Well, imagine it yourself. A 72-year-old sucking cock for the first time.

She tried her best. After Master stopped her, he said, “Inadequate. Extremely inadequate.”

He turned to leave, but stopped and looked back at her.

“For that pitiful service, your asshole will be distressed.”

To another room, where true to his word, Master “distressed” her asshole.

In my talk with her at the hospital, I had asked Greer about her anal experience.

No more than the occasional single-finger teasing by Lydia, she said.

For the next hour, she took plugs, pumps and dildos up that sweet innocent shitter.

Next was the first of three full-body whippings Greer would endure.

She took it well, never screaming and only sobbing near the end.

Which I expected. Master whips more to humiliate than to hurt.

Greer seemed genuinely surprised that clit clamps were real.

Master used one after Greer’s second failed attempt to provide proper oral service.

And he did something else as part of that punishment. But what followed that second punishment was the coldest thing I’ve ever seen Master do.

“Look at me,” Master told Greer. He had brought her back to the living room.

“Yes, sir,” she said. He only allowed his property to call him master.

“You will tell your wife what just happened.”

Greer looked aghast. She began to quietly weep.

But she found it within herself to obey. She turned and looked down at her beloved.

She said simply …

“I was fisted.”

“Come.”

Master led her away again.

Lydia looked like her heart was made of ashes.