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She stepped from the car with her silky hair around her head like a halo, but this woman was definitely not an angel. My leash, rather firmly attached to my ever firm cock, pulled me out of the car. As my naked body stepped out into public I did not even show a sign of embarrassment.

Mistress had trained me well over the last few weeks—at least I think they were weeks. Time has had little meaning since I met Mistress Shanna. Mistress Shanna was my darkest desire in more ways than one. She was pure ebony perfection. Her eyes were penetrating, her hair long and silky, her legs a glorious gift from her creator, her breasts natural though abnormally large and her attitude one that demanded absolute, unhesitating, unquestioned obedience.

From the moment I met Mistress I was completely mesmerized by her like a mouse by a king cobra. She towered, or at least it seemed, over my 6' frame and all at once I felt the need to drop to my knees in service to her. That is exactly what I did too. I don't know why but it was as if I suddenly had no will of my own—nor wished to have one—and I had her inside my mind. I could practically hear Mistress in my head though she had yet to say a word to me.

How she exercised such control over me without a word is beyond me. She simply did. My mind seemed to cloud over at first and, when the clouds cleared, afterwards it seemed that I was simply property for her to do ...

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