"Welcome to your new home, slave. Mistress Stacy has asked that I prepare you.”
This was the first time I’d seen Grace outside of her store. She was dressed in a body-hugging leather catsuit, the legs tucked into a pair of vicious spike-heeled boots. “Get down on your hands and knees, slave, and crawl over to me. Do it!”
Confused, yet knowing Mistress Stacy had set this up, I obeyed, crawling to Grace.
"Lick them, slave. Say hello to me properly. You will never refer to me again by any name other than Mistress Grace, no matter where we are."
"Yes, Mistress Grace," I responded, after having licked her boots.
"Stand up, slave. I’m going to connect all those buckles … then I’m going to tie your balls. Don’t move a muscle."
I stood, remained silent, watched what I could and felt her hands and fingers where I couldn’t see. By the time Mistress Grace had finished, my hands were immobile, my balls were separated, my cock was sheathed and the butt plug — part of the harness — was in my ass.
"There," she said. "You’re almost ready for Mistress Stacy. Just one more minor preparation. Get back down on your knees and bend your head as close to the floor as you can."
"Yes, Mistress Grace," I said, doing what I could to obey. I watched out the side of my eye as she reached up to the wall and took down an intimidating whip, flexed it, snapped it in the air and cracked it on the floor. She was an expert. Probably all that time spent in the store.
"And now, slave, I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do ever since we met. I’m going to whip you, long and hard, in preparation for your true mistress. Make no mistake, slave, she wants it this way. Mistress Stacy wants you softened-up before you see her. Are you ready? I am."
She flogged. Harshly. Methodically. Completely. I was in tears when she hung the whip back on the wall, turned to me, held the back of her hand to my mouth and said, “Thank me, slave.”
I kissed and licked her skin then spoke the grateful words required.
"Now, crawl over to the cross, slave. I’m going to bind you to it in preparation for your true mistress."
In a twinkling, Mistress Grace tightly and severely tied me to the St. Andrew’s cross, including a belt around my midsection so I couldn’t wiggle my butt. My genitals were exposed just below the X of the cross. I heard a door open behind me and the pronounced sounds of high heels on solid floor. Not a word was spoken until she came into view. I gasped.
Mistress Stacy wore an outfit I’d never seen before: black shoulder-length kid gloves, a black leather halter that hooked under her breasts thus forcing them up and out and fully exposing them, matching garter belt and panties, black nylons and spike-heeled boots. I grew more and more excited as I looked at her body, my cock beginning to swell as she stood before me.