Becca Bellamy
patreon
The Initiation - Part 4
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 05:07:40 +0000 UTCClick here to read the previous parts of the story.
---
You are alone in her apartment. You are naked except for the chastity device that keeps your penis in a small, flaccid state and serves as a constant reminder that you have given yourself over to your mistress, that your life has become about serving her, about meeting her needs in whatever way she desires.
Tonight, that means cleaning her apartment from top to bottom. It means doing the most thorough job imaginable or suffering painful consequences if you should fail to meet her exacting standards for her submissive. It might also mean that you never graduate to the position of her primary sub, of her most important sub, of the one that is permitted to earn the position of her most cherished possession.
So you clean thoroughly. You dust every surface. You vacuum the carpets and rugs. You mop the kitchen and bathroom floors. You scrub the grout with a tooth brush. You spend hour after hour cleaning and you think of your mistress the entire time. You think of how she let you dress her for her date with her boyfriend. You think of how she let you kiss her feet before she left. You think of how she promised she would consider letting you worship her when she returned from her date, though you understand that getting to do so is far from a guarantee.
Your body aches by the time you hear her key in the lock. You finished cleaning fifteen minutes prior and have been waiting on your knees by her front door since then.
Your gaze is cast downwards as she steps into her apartment. You see her heels first. You see her carefully painted toes. You feel an urge to fall forward and kiss them, but even that small pleasure is something you need her permission for.
"Welcome home, mistress," you say.
She gently shuts the door and locks it. She steps towards you and rests a hand on the top of your head. You close your eyes as the pleasure of being touched by your mistress spreads down your spine.
"Stay," she says quietly.
You hear her heels on the hardwood floor behind you. You hear them on the elegant tile of her kitchen floor. You hear her walking throughout the apartment and no doubt inspecting your work to ensure that you did as you were told, that you showed your devotion to her by taking your task seriously and vigorously cleaning her home from top to bottom.
"Come," she says.
You stand and turn. Your mistress looks beautiful in her dress and heels. Her hair is long and soft and wavy. Her lipstick is faded from when she left, but you imagine that's likely because she and her boyfriend had sex for the first time tonight.
Your mistress turns and you follow. She enters her bedroom and sets her purse on the dresser. She's facing away from you, but when she points to the floor you fall to your knees without hesitation.
She walks into her bathroom and removes her earrings, necklace, and the three bracelets she accessorized her outfit with. She looks at herself in the mirror, runs her fingers through her hair, and then turns and smiles at you.
"You did an excellent job cleaning," she says.
"Thank you for the opportunity to serve you in that way, mistress. It made me happy to do so. Truly."
She saunters towards you and sits on the edge of her bed. "You may approach on your knees and kiss my feet."
You crawl towards her. You lower your head and feel a surge of submissive pleasure from taking a supplicant position. You place a handful of kisses on her feet, including all ten of her toes. You kiss her shoes a little, too. You yearn for your lips to venture northwards, to kiss her legs all the way up to her knees, but you contain your desires.
"I thought of you tonight," she says. "It was during dinner. I was sitting across the table from this gorgeous man having an incredible conversation and I thought of what a lucky woman I am. I thought that I have a submissive at home dutifully cleaning my apartment and saving me from hours of work while I get to enjoy the finer things in life. I also thought of how lucky you are, of how rare it is for a man like you to find someone to offer himself to, someone that appreciates that he wants nothing more than to be my most cherished possession. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes, mistress."
"You may look up at me."
You sit back on your knees and look up at her. She's smiling and her eyes are alive with happiness. "I love you, mistress, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life serving you and doing whatever I can to make your life better. That's why it felt so good to clean your apartment tonight, especially doing so while you were on a date, while you were enjoying the company of a man you find yourself falling for."
She slowly reaches out and rests her hand against your cheek. Her skin is warm and impossibly soft and gently scented with a lotion of some kind. You close your eyes and inhale deeply as her touch soothes and enthralls you.
"I am falling for him," she says. "Especially after tonight."
Your eyes find hers and she smiles.
"Yes, he fucked me. It was better than I expected. Much better, in fact. He's a very vanilla man in many ways, but he's exceptional in bed."
You feel jealous. Of course you do. Any man would. You're naked in the same room with her and yet you know that you'll never be allowed inside her, that you'll never fuck her, that you'll never make love to her. The best you can hope for is to do so with your tongue, to tend to her pleasure by licking her clit. Her boundaries are clear, though. She does not fuck submissives like you. You are not worthy of her pussy. You are not a bull. You do not service her with your cock. You service her with every other part of you, but not your cock. To her, your cock is nothing. It is merely a worthless appendage. That's why she keeps it in a chastity cage.
"You may remove my heels," she says.
You carefully help your mistress out of her shoes and set them aside. "May I rub your feet?"
She nods.
You take her foot in your hand. You run your fingers over it. You press your thumbs into her heel and rub the full length of her sole all the way to her toes, eliciting a soft moan as she closes her eyes and leans back a little.
As you rub one foot, your mistress slides the other between your legs and uses her toes to tease your chastised cock. It's been ten days since you were permitted to orgasm and every little touch feels deeply pleasurable.
"How often do you think about sex?" she asks.
"Every day," you reply.
Her smile is of the playful, borderline devilish variety. You surmise that she likes that you're willing to deny yourself the pleasure of sex because the pleasure of serving her far outweighs it.
"How often do you think about the fact that you will not be permitted to fuck someone while you are in my service?" she asks.
"Every day," you answer.
She moans softly and inches her dress towards her hips, exposing her milky white thighs. "Fuck my foot."
You begin to thrust your lips as she holds her foot under your cock and balls. You rub your chastised genitals against her flesh and she laughs softly.
"Pathetic," she says. "Like a fucking dog. Humping me because you know this is as close to having sex with me that you will ever get."
"Yes, mistress," you reply as your cock and balls tingle with desire. Yes, you're frustrated. Deeply so. It's a good kind of frustration, though. The kind where you fall a little deeper in love with her because she's tending to the side of you that finds intense pleasure in submission.
"Lick up your fucking precum," she instructs.
You back up and run your tongue over her foot, licking your sweet precum from her flesh. After you've done so, she maneuvers her toes into your mouth, shoving all five of them past your lips. She lifts her foot and you sit up with her toes still in your mouth. She fucks your face slowly, stretching your lips wide as she pushes her foot as deep into your mouth as it can go.
She pulls her foot out and rubs your saliva on your face. She laughs while doing so.
"Come closer," she says as her foot comes to rest on the floor.
You crawl forward until you're mere inches from the edge of her bed. She grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls hard, making you wince. You look up at your mistress as she leans forward. You see her gathering the spit in her mouth and you tilt part your lips to receive her fluid.
She slowly releases the fluid from her mouth. It travels in a straight line down onto your tongue. Her fingers then follow and she fucks your mouth aggressively, making you gag and spit up a little. Your eyes water, too, and the experience is one of genuine discomfort, though you find pleasure in it because your mistress is clearly delighted.
"Swallow," she says.
You swallow her saliva. You savor the opportunity to drink her fluid. "Thank you, mistress," you say.
"You're welcome. Now back up."
You back up and she stands.
"Help me out of my dress. You may touch me as you do so. You may not touch my breasts or my ass, though."
You stand and she turns around. You run your fingers over the soft material of her dress until you find the zipper. You gently tug on it, exposing the smooth skin of her back as you lower the zipper.
"You're so beautiful, mistress," you say softly. In that moment you want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss the back of her neck, but you know it's not your place. You've not been offered that pleasure and you are not her boyfriend. You do not get to take liberties like that with her.
"Thank you," she replies.
You place your hands on her shoulders and slowly push the straps of the dress outwards. Your hands move down her arms until they're free of the straps. Your hands find their way to the back of her neck and move down her back, over her bra straps, and to her hips, where you once more find the dress. You push down, slowly working the fabric over her hips and thighs and to the floor. You are once again on your knees, but this time you're staring at her perfect ass with a lace thong running down the crack. You want to kiss it, of course, and it takes considerable willpower to refrain from doing so.
"Fold the dress and set it by the door. You'll be taking it to the dry cleaner tomorrow," she says.
You do as instructed and turn back to the bed to see your mistress facing you. Her bra is semi-sheer and you can see her nipples and the soft, pale flesh around them. You stare for a few moments and then meet her gaze. There's a sweet smile on her face and it lights you up from the inside out.
She holds out her hand and you approach the bed and your fingers entwine with hers. She steps closer and the soft material of her bra brushes against your chest. Her lips near yours and you engage in an epic battle of self control to refrain from kissing her.
"Your love, your devotion, it means a great deal to me," she whispers. "I've been clear that you are not a man I could ever fall in love with, but I do feel affection for you. Great affection. You provide me with something that my boyfriend cannot, something that I need to be complete. Your submission - when properly executed - gives me what I crave."
Her lips brush against your neck and you close your eyes as a potent kind of arousal courses through your body. The strength of it catches you off guard and you recognize that a kiss on the neck registers as a significant reward from your mistress, that the intimacy of it is remarkable, that she's offering a gift for your service.
"Thank you for letting me serve you, mistress," you say. "Doing so completes me. I didn't understand just how deeply my need to serve was until I met you, but every day with you makes it clearer that I was always meant to serve, that it's my place to do so, that it will always be my place to do so and that I'm the luckiest man in the world to have met a woman like you, a woman that allows me to serve in the way you do."
She cups your balls and at first it feels good. Her touch is gentle and her skin warm and soft. Then she grips them and begins to squeeze. At first you feel nervous, but as her grip tightens you feel a touch of pain and an uncontrollable low level sense of panic sets in. You say nothing, though, as her grip continues to tighten.
"You have not yet earned your place as my primary submissive," she says. "Though you're getting close. There are still tests to pass, still parts of your initiation that you haven't experienced. There is still pain and humiliation to suffer to prove that you are willing to do whatever it takes to make me happy."
"I am, mistress," you say. "I will prove my devotion in whatever way you require."
She releases your balls and slaps them with such force that you double over in pain. A wave of nausea washes over you and then you stand upright once more, hoping that your reaction to the sudden pain has not disappointed her. Your mistress is smiling, though.
"I got in touch with the girl from the CVS," she says. "Georgia, I believe her name was. I've agreed to meet with her, to see if she might be a good pupil. If she is, you will be used for her training."
"Yes, mistress," you say as you remember the young woman who guessed correctly that you were not buying condoms for yourself, that made you admit you were buying them for your mistress, that gave you her number so you could put her in touch with your mistress.
"Lower my panties," she says.
You drop to your knees and your heart pounds as you slip your fingers under the waistband of her panties and slowly lower them. Her labia are still swollen from the sex. She's still quite wet, too.
"You may breathe in my scent."
You lean forward and inhale deeply. The exquisite smell of sex fills your nose. You close your eyes as a sense of joy works its way through your body. Pure, perfect, unadulterated joy because the smell is proof that your mistress had sex tonight, sex that she has already told you was exceptional.
Furthermore, being permitted only to smell her pussy is a wonderful way of putting you in your place. You don't get to fuck her pussy. You get to smell it when someone else has had their way with her. You get to breathe in the scent of her pleasure, of his pleasure. You bask in the joy provided by inhaling her glorious scent and look up to say, "Thank you, mistress, for letting me smell your pussy."
Her fingers slowly run down her stomach and between her legs. She masturbates inches from your face. She does so in a manner that generates quite a bit of noise and it fills your head, drawing you into a deeply entranced state. Your cock throbs in its cage. Your mouth waters at the prospect of tasting her pussy. You feel your body drawing you forward, encouraging you to try and kiss and lick her fingers and pussy. You fight against those desires, though, and you feel the strain in your lower back from doing so.
Your mistress slides her fingers into your mouth. You taste her juices. Then you gag as she pushes deep and tickles your throat. Your eyes bulge and begin to water as she holds three fingers deep in your mouth.
She pulls them free with a flourish and wipes them on your face, leaving a trail of your saliva behind.
"Do you wish to taste my cunt?" she asks.
"Yes, mistress."
"And would you be willing to suffer for the privilege of tasting me?"
"Yes, mistress."
Her fingers move through your hair before she takes a tight grip. She steps back and slaps you across the face with her other hand. It stings and there's an uncontrollable wave of humiliation that comes with the slap, but you look up at her. She slaps you twice more and each hurts more than the last.
"Thank you, mistress," you say, mostly because you see the pleasure in her eyes. She likes that you're willing to suffer for her, that you're willing to do literally anything to please her.
"You're welcome."
She releases your grip on her hair, turns, and crawls into her bed. She spreads her legs and says, "You may worship my pussy. For each orgasm you decide to give me, I will punish you. The first punishment will be a belting across your ass. The second will be a vicious strapon fucking with a rather large dildo. The third, should you be so bold, will be a swift kick in the balls that will send you to your knees. I can't imagine you'd push for a fourth orgasm, but if you do I'll come up with something spectacularly painful to subject you to."
You stand and crawl into the bed. You settle between her legs. There's no question you're going to make her cum four times as there is no greater pleasure for you than giving your mistress an orgasm and she's given you free reign to do so as many times as you'd like. You can't pass that up, even if it means suffering significantly for her.
"Thank you for this, mistress," you say. "You're more generous than I deserve."
"Yes, I am," she replies. "Now worship."
You do so knowing full well that you will suffer. That's part of submitting to her, though. She insists that you suffer for her, that your submission doesn't mean as much if it doesn't include suffering. That only makes you want to suffer more, though, especially as you sink deeper into your submission.
There is no higher purpose than submission to your mistress, which is why you are, in this moment, as happy as a man has ever been. You're also driven to pass every part of her initiation, to be drawn deeper into her inner circle, to become the most important submissive in her life and to provide her with everything her boyfriend cannot.
You will do whatever it takes to serve your mistress, just like a good submissive should.
