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I guess I realized my fetish started when I was in high school. One weekend, a whole group of my friends went up to the lake to party and get some sun and water-skiing in. There was this really CUTE girl who I was seeing. Her family was rich and let her do basically whatever she wanted. So she asked to take her brother’s speedboat out and of course they consented. I think that she had just learned how to drive but had been navigating her father’s speedboat as well as some of our friends’ ski-boats for a while. I don’t think she had ever taken her brother’s boat out before. But what the hell, he was away at college and wouldn’t care anyways. Right? Well, I remember a whole bunch of problems getting the boat up to the lake, but once it was there, the fun started.

Valerie had long blond hair (being the California beach girl) and a really knockout tan slim body, with blue eyes and pouty lips. She was always wearing as little clothing as possible (to get more sun she said). The day after we got there, Val was wearing a red bikini and she had these cute dainty feet with red nail polish. I remember looking at her long tan legs and gazing downwards to her feet. She was a water-skier and had smooth, muscular, but not too muscular legs that saw their share of sunlight. Her cute brown feet were in white flip-flops, the kind that has the really thin stringy thongs which showed off her cute feet. I got an instant hard-on.

She pulled me to my feet where the group was sitting in the sand. We hadn’t begun to ski yet so she told the group she was going to warm up the boat and get used to driving it by taking it around the lake once. She of course called me to go with her or this would be the end of the story.

Her brother’s boat was a fast jet boat that he sometimes used for racing. It had a benchseat in it big enough for only two. As she climbed into the driver’s seat, she put her leg forward and as I was admiring her beautiful, nicely-tanned strong legs, I saw a big pedal shaped like a big bare footprint on the floorboard right in front of her. It had a raised ridge along the side of it and the entire gleaming footboard surface had raised bumps kind of like corrugated steel. The shiny metal pedal was at least 14″ high and stood straight up. I had never seen a pedal on a boat before and asked her what it was for.

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I had never been an actual slave in “real life,” although I had had strong fantasies about being a slave for just about as long as I could remember. I have a very submissive nature, especially around someone who is able to bring out that side of me. This story is about a Mistress I served.

Mistress R. was my online Mistress. We had never actually met; we only corresponded through the email on a local BBS. All I knew about her was what I could read in her “bio.” She was 33 years old, 5’9″ tall and weighed 140 pounds. She was married and had red hair. Most of the other answers in her bio were normal enough, but under a question about personality types, she had selected “dominant.” Of course, with my submissive side, I had to write to her and explore just what she meant by that answer, and I was happy to learn that she liked to fantasize about being a Mistress. Based on this, we soon formed an online relationship with her as the Mistress and me as the slave. She made it very clear that since she was happily married this could never be anything more than “electronic play,” and I readily agreed. Right from the beginning she was very demanding. She remained totally in control and things seldom went the way I wished, but as I followed her orders (by myself, in front of the computer), I began to feel myself mentally coming under her control.

She began my training by telling me that as her slave, my body become her property. Just like I wouldn’t think of touching a Mistress without permission, she required me to ask for her permission and to follow certain rules she set forth before I was allowed to touch “her penis.” She ordered me to relieve her penis three times a day, but I was never allowed to even touch it if I was on any kind of furniture; I had to be kneeling or laying on the floor. This was very hard for me, since reading her letters or chatting with her or thinking about her made me very horny; it was hard to keep my hands off of her penis. I was required to send her a daily report once a day about how I had relieved her penis, how I had carried out any of her other orders, and describing my feelings to her.

Let me explain that although we never played in person, I tried to the best of my ability to obey her every command exactly as she wished, without complaint. I was not entirely successful, I think in part due to the fact that I probably needed her watching over me to insure total obedience. It was enough, though, to make me feel totally like her property. I was honest with her, so whenever I disobeyed or did not follow her orders, I told her so. Being an online computer relationship, I could have lied and she would never have known, but I think then I would have missed out on many of the feelings that came along with it. I really began to think and feel as if I were under her control.

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If her front view had been devastating, the view of her back was even more awesome, a wide “V” of rippling muscularity that tapered to her narrow waist as she slowly straightened her arms to reveal the incredible development of her triceps. Then, turning again to face him, she flexed abdominal muscles that stood out in bold relief like a washboard under the curve of her ribs.

“Enjoying the show, little boy?” she asked mockingly. “D’you like big girls? Me, I stand 6’8″ in my bare feet and weigh 265 lbs., all muscle! And I’m still growing!”

Tom tried to swallow, but his mouth was almost completely dry. “You–you’re unbelievable!” he was finally able to croak. “I–I didn’t think it was possible for a girl to have such huge muscles.”

She smiled faintly. “Lots of people think that,” she said softly. “As you can see, they’re wrong. Male hormones aren’t the only reason most men are taller and have bigger upper bodies than women. It’s a matter of genetics. Today only a few women have the genetics to develop muscles like mine, but as more and more women develop themselves physically there will be more of us born every day. Women’s bodies are inherently stronger than men’s; they have to be to be able to bear children. And in time women will have the size and muscle to go with their superior bodies, and then it will be men’s turn to become the weaker sex. And when that happens, we’ll take over and straighten out the mess you men have made of the world.” (click to read entire story…)

The new girl at Central High was the talk of the school from the day she arrived. At only fifteen years old, she was a veritable giantess, towering over six and a half feet in height, and looked like she weighed well over two hundred pounds, although only her broad, powerful shoulders and massive breasts were evident under the loose, high necked sweaters and baggy slacks she invariably wore. Her hands and feet, big even for a girl her size, were half again as large as the most of the boys’, and her dark hair, cut in a short page boy, framed solid, squarish, but strikingly lovely features which, though larger than life, could easily have adorned the cover of any fashion magazine and dispelled any notion that, despite her immense size, she might have been fat.

As luck would have it, she was given a locker right next to Tom’s, and as they exchanged their books after the first of their morning classes, his 5’2″, 110 lb. frame made him feel like a small child as they stood next to each other, his eyes barely reaching to the bulge of her breasts under her loose sweater. Although, like many small boys, he had always been fascinated by taller, bigger girls, he could not help but feel that this girl was far too overwhelming even for his taste. But she seemed not to notice his discomfort as she looked down at him and greeted him with a dazzling smile, “Hi! I’m Angie McPhallon. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors.” (click to read entire story…)

I slowly stuck out my tongue as she continued her shifting her hips across my face. The giantess purred as she released both of my hands to massage both of her enormous tits. “Now I don’t taste all that bad, do I?” she cooed. I was fighting the urge to put my tongue back in my mouth after tasting the bitterness of her vagina.

Both of her huge hands grabbed my head and tried to shoved it deeper into her cavernous cunt. Her giant oscillating hip gyrated at a faster rate. I was close to the point of passing out until Melissa rolled off of me, pulling me with her. I laid on top of her gasping for oxygen, until I heard her say, “Fuck me, you little runt.”

I looked down at my half hard shaft, trying to will it to rock hard, but I was to exhausted to do so. I had a feeling that I would get a beating if I don’t fuck the secretary soon. This time, I willed an exotic image of a woman at my height that any man would want to have for the night. Slowly, my genial started to become erected. I crawled forward slowly, as I stretched my legs and back.

Suddenly, something large and big swatted on my back. The blow sent me sprawling forward, face first into the giantess’s tits. A voice, I know all to well, said, “You should know better than that, Melissa. You’ll screw up the incantation if you let him touch you that way.”

I rolled over to see my boss, Ms. Suzan Sager, towering above me. She changed her clothes to something that looked more dominating. She wore a pair of jet black high heel boots, which showed off her massively powerful thighs. I could see her pubic hair protruding from the sides of her panties. The cups of her black lacy corset was being threatened to be overrun by her giant hooters. Over her broad shoulders, she wore a black cape, which hung all the way down to the floor.

The word, incantation, ran through my mind. “What could she be talking about?” I thought to myself. “I couldn’t help myself, Ms. Sager. I haven’t been fucked in a long time,” said her secretary. I started to get up off of Melissa, but the honey brown hair giantess kicked me back down on to my back. “I think we’re going to have to debase Tony a little bit more,” snickered my boss. (click to read entire story…)