Slave Stories: A New Home

In anticipation of a major site redesign on my part, there will no longer be “room” for slave stories.  My current site is bloated and outdated. In an effort to make it current, certain pages will need to be pruned. I feel that these accounts need to have a home SOMEWHERE, though. What better place than my blog? The first in a series of posts of slaves who have seen me in the past:

My trip to New Orleans in 2000

Could this be real? After all my planning and preparation was My Queen really coming up the gangway? Yes, yes, there she was walking right towards me smiling from ear to ear! I wanted to drop to my knees and kiss her feet with joy, but instead she hugged me tight, let me take her carry-on and off we went to get her luggage, me hanging on her every word as she told me about her trip. She is so beautiful and her voice is so sexy, I almost ran into a door just walking down the corridor listening to her.

I so wanted everything to be perfect for her first visit to New Orleans. Since we’re famous for Mardi Gras I had a nice string of beads for her, then surprised her with a white stretch limo complete with champagne (California, of course) and cold drinks. My truck would just not have been appropriate for My Queen. She was gracious enough to allow me to remove her shoes and kiss and massage her feet during our trip to the French Quarter. It felt so natural to sit on the floor worshiping her feet and listening to her talk. She had some questions about the weekend ahead and I excitedly told her about all I had planned. The idea was for her to see as many New Orleans highlights as comfortably possible, enjoy the best of the local cuisine, be totally pampered and get her hands (paddles, crops, etc.) on my ass. Flexible arrangements had been made for all of her meals and I gave her my suggestions with much excitement. She was genuinely pleased and that was reward enough for me.

It would not do for her to stand in the check-in line so I had already taken care of that and prepared the suite. Of course a regular room would not be fitting for My Queen so I had requested the most private suite available. It was perfect, top floor, end of the hall, large sitting room and all the amenities of a first class hotel. I had completed the arrangements with a dozen red roses, French vanilla candles, an assortment of cold drinks and several new outfits. She was pleased with the accommodations and extras and that was what I wanted to hear. Knowing that she would be a little tired from the trip I excused myself, leaving her to rest and get ready for a walking tour of the French Quarter with me as her guide.

At the appointed time I knocked softly on the door and noticed that I was shaking with excitement. She let me in, told me to strip, lay out the lingerie that I had with me and wait for her in the sitting room. You see this was not going to be a regular walking tour, oh no. I had learned long ago that everything I do with the Vinyl Queen is exciting. She had me put on a matching set of bra, garter belt, stockings and thong panty. Then she watched with an amused look on her face as I, following her instructions, bent over and inserted a remote control vibrating egg into my butt. She let me wear regular slacks and a Polo shirt, but no socks with my loafers. She tested the remote and off we went.

It was so exciting to be seen with her and be around her. I love to watch the looks on guys (and girls) faces when they see her coming. They try not to stare, but usually are not very successful. Little whiffs of her perfume, her beautiful smile, her sexy body and her astute and amusing observations made for a wonderful time together in the Quarter. She got the biggest kick out of waiting until I was in the middle of describing a landmark then turning on the egg. As soon as it started buzzing I would go blank and I stammer and stutter trying to complete my thought. She would laugh and say, “Go on, tell me the rest!” or “What were you saying, again?” One of my goals is to provide amusement for her and she was definitely amused.

We returned to the hotel and had a most enjoyable time just sitting and talking. One of the things that I love the most about being with My Queen is her capacity to make the most of every situation and this was no exception. Whether I’m in her dungeon, restrained with my ass on fire or just sitting quietly and listening to her, it is always exciting. It was with much reluctance, but satisfaction that we returned to her suite so that I could change and head home.

My sleep was fitful that night dreaming of spending a large part of Saturday with My Queen. I arrived at the appointed time to find her well rested and in a wickedly playful mood. She was stunning as always in her catsuit and boots and had me in lingerie kneeling at her feet in no time. She added rope to my outfit this time and it always excites me how much more restrained I feel with rope wrapped and knotted artfully around my body and pulled tight between my legs. She had allowed me to bring nail polish remover, cotton pads and pick the color to go back on her toenails. I showed her my choices and she was pleased. Before letting me begin she cuffed my hands, just to make it more interesting. What a thrill to sit at her feet and work carefully on those gorgeous toes!

During our first visit, in San Francisco, My Queen wanted to give me a real taste of corporal punishment. Unfortunately due to a lack of sound proofing in the room I was staying in she was unable to really cut loose on me. It was a wonderful time and perfect for the beginning of a long-term Mistress/sub relationship, but she was itching to really redden my ass, and that was to happen in New Orleans. She was very picky about where and how to position me, left the shackles on and began to educate me on the instruments of pain that she had with her. She would explain the construction and best use of each one before attacking my butt with it. She would go slowly and methodically, then fast and furious, always keeping me guessing. It was the most intense paddling that I had ever received up to that point. It hurt so bad, but was so mentally cleansing. She is a true artist in several respects, including corporal punishment. It is amazing to me how much mentally stronger and more confident I am after each time she works me over.

During the afternoon she changed into several other fabulous outfits and we played some other games for her amusement. She posed me for pictures and laughed at me when my sore butt would hit the carpet. She taught me how to lace and unlace her boots and gave me one of the greatest privileges I can ever have, by letting me give her a body massage.

sissy in New Orleans

Yes Ma’am with The Vinyl Queen in New Orleans, 2001.

When it came time for me to leave I was sad, but so very satisfied. We hugged and said goodbye and I must confess I had tears in my eyes when I hit the down button for the elevator. They were tears of joy that the weekend had worked out so wonderfully and tears of sadness that it was ending. She had once again opened new, exciting doors for me and I knew that no matter how much I did for her in return, it would be inadequate. She let me know that she was pleased with my efforts, appreciated my attention to detail and was enjoying her weekend. Music to my ears!

The Vinyl Queen is truly a unique mix of beauty, intelligence, imagination, artistic ability, mind reader, tease, tormentor and confidant, in a graceful and exciting, killer package! She is My Queen and for that I am so very thankful.

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