Part 1 – (E) Michaela

That Wednesday evening, the weather was bleak at Heemstede-Aerdenhout Station; a cold, autumnal wind from the north was blowing through the small station. On the platform stood an attractive, curvaceous woman with medium-length black hair. She was dressed in a black pleated skirt that fell just above her knee, with suspenders, black stockings, and black stiletto-heeled boots underneath. As usual, she wasn’t wearing panties, and on top she wore a silver-colored satin blouse. Her full breasts were held together by a sexy black bra. Over everything, she wore a short black leather jacket. She was traveling first class to Leiden, where she would see a conductor again whom she had met a week earlier on the train from Haarlem to Sloterdijk.

The 21:09 train pulled into the station; she had chosen this train because she was sure it would be very quiet at that time, especially in first class. After the train came to a stop, she quickly walked to the door, which was opened by the person she was meeting. “Good evening, ma’am,” he said in a slightly trembling voice, and he helped her board the train.

After a smooth ride, the train pulled into the station, where Peter could already see her standing, and he opened the door as quickly as he could. He could see her more clearly now, and once again he was deeply impressed by her stern demeanor. Since their first meeting, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind—something he didn’t really want to do anyway. He held out his hand to help her inside. The moment he touched her hand—enveloped in a black lace glove—he knew immediately what he wanted most. Somewhat nervous and with a dry mouth, he said, “Good evening, ma’am,” and bowed slightly to her.

She had noticed the tremor in his voice, which aroused her. This was partly because he had also chosen the right words to greet her, avoided looking her in the eye, and bowed to her. She had emailed him her rules and guidelines that week, instructing him to memorize them. One of those rules was that she wished to be addressed as “Madam” by him in public spaces. “Lead the way!” she commanded him.

After giving her the order to go ahead, he turned around and opened the car door, leading the Mistress inside. As he did so, he was careful not to look at her. He thought she looked amazing, and her outfit—which gave her an even more dominant air—was exactly as he had expected. The sight of the Mistress aroused the slave immensely, resulting in a massive erection. He showed her a seat positioned so that she could immediately see anyone who entered. The slave asked the Mistress submissively, “Is this seat to your liking, Madam?”

She nodded, sat down, and crossed her legs, causing her skirt to ride up slightly and reveal a garter. He could now also admire her cleavage; he saw that her breasts jutted out firmly and that her nipples were hard. He was afraid that the noticeable bulge in his pants was quite obvious, so he tried to cover it with his bag.

After he told her to go ahead, she followed him into the compartment; she thought the conductor looked quite handsome in his uniform—a slender man in his early forties with blond hair that was already thinning considerably. From their email exchanges, she knew he was married and had two children, an 18-year-old son and a 16-year-old daughter. His wife was 37; they’d been married for seven years and had been happy so far. The Mistress knew she had the power to completely change his life, thereby destroying his marriage. This sense of power turned her on; she wouldn’t hesitate to bind this man entirely to her, if only for the sake of her own lust and pleasure. The

The unpleasant consequences of a possible divorce and no longer seeing his children left her completely unmoved. Only her own interests mattered, and this suited her perfectly during the last 7 years of her 47-year-old life.

“Shouldn’t you go back to the platform?” she asked him, assuming he had to let the train leave with a whistle. “No, ma’am. You’re the only passenger, and the engineer knows when he can leave.”

“All right,” she said to Peter, who immediately knelt before her and kissed her boot, which was resting on the floor; she had noticed his erection but didn’t let on. After he had licked the other boot as well, at her instruction—during which she had pushed her stiletto heel deep into his mouth—she ordered him to sit down across from her.

After the command “Heel,” Peter knew he had to obey, and he did so, even though he was afraid of being discovered. What would people think of a conductor on his knees in front of a lady while licking her boots? He didn’t notice an older man standing in the doorway, taking pictures of them. Peter trusted that she would make sure he wouldn’t get into trouble. In one of her emails, she had said she was very discreet and that she expected the same from him. That mutual assurance had reassured him at the time. By the time Peter was allowed to sit across from the Mistress, the man in the doorway had already left.

Of course she had seen the old man with his cell phone, which he was using to take pictures; she had instructed him to do so herself, and he had boarded the train in Haarlem. It struck her again that the old man knew how to take pictures with a cell phone and that he hadn’t even forgotten to turn off the flash. She dragged out the kneeling session considerably, longer than usual, because she enjoyed having someone watch while she humiliated a submissive slave. By the time the slave sat down at her command, the man was already gone. She asked Peter various questions regarding the rules and regulations she had sent him, to which he was always required to answer with no more than two words. He made only one mistake, which was actually quite good. However, she informed him that he had answered one question incorrectly and told him that this was unacceptable and that she would punish him severely for it next time. She would determine the severity of the punishment later. When she told the slave this, she saw him flinch slightly. Meanwhile, the train was halfway to Leiden, where her loyal chauffeur would pick her up.

Peter thought the cross-examination had gone well; just one little mistake, and yet he was severely punished—that did give him a bit of a shock, even though she had already told him all about it in her emails. The Mistress does not tolerate mistakes.

After making this announcement, she stood up and walked to the front of the car. “Follow me.” She walked to the door, which Peter had to open. She had him fold down a folding bench in the small vestibule, and she placed her booted foot on it, her stiletto heel sinking deep into the faux leather. As she did so, her leg, clad in black stockings, was revealed. Even the suspenders attached to her stockings were visible to Peter. Once the door was closed behind them, she ordered him to kneel and put his head under her skirt. Her pleated skirt was wide enough for this. She ordered him to satisfy her orally.

Peter now fully understood that this was one of his final tests in this inspection session. He knew the train would soon be pulling into Leiden.

He had already been told in advance what he was supposed to do now. He had even been supposed to practice at home. His lips enclosed his Mistress’s rock-hard cock. This shemale truly had a gigantic, rock-hard cock. His puny little dick was nothing in comparison; it immediately became clear to the slave that there was no escape from this lady—in every way, the Mistress was superior to him. Rhythmically and as deeply as possible, the slave moved his lips up and down her member. He had read the instructions for this at least 30 times, and it was clear to him that he could not make any mistakes—otherwise, he would be punished terribly, or, in the worst case, not accepted as a slave.

After a while, the Mistress took over, grabbing his thin tuft of hair and beginning to rhythmically fuck him in his slave’s mouth, while at the same time ruthlessly pushing his head forward over her cock. He knew he had failed when the Mistress took over, because that meant she didn’t think his efforts were good enough.

Peter regularly felt her member thrusting deep into the back of his throat. He knew he mustn’t gag, and he had practiced this thoroughly with the 6 cm thick and 18 cm long dildo that his Mistress had ordered him to buy. This practice came in handy when the Mistress, as he perceived it, kept thrusting endlessly deep. The Mistress came deep in his throat; the slave swallowed her precious cum silently and without spilling a single drop. Next, the slave had to clean her up with special tissues and put on her panties, which she had already pulled out of her bag. When he was done, the train pulled into Leiden Central Station. He hurried to open the door for her and helped her out. “I’ll be in touch,” the Mistress said curtly, then walked toward the exit. The slave watched her go for a moment, pulled himself together, and then went back to his work. His replacement was already on the platform and had seen him help her get off the train. His colleague didn’t mention it, though, and together they walked over to the engineer. They chatted briefly about work and said their goodbyes; then Peter walked toward the exit, where his wife would pick him up in the car. He hoped no one would notice anything unusual about him—and certainly not Marja, his wife.

When the Mistress placed her foot on the bench and her skirt rode up slightly, she looked at her new little slave and saw the erection in his pants. She ordered him to kneel and satisfy her orally under her skirt. He carried out the order immediately, and just as she expected, he gave her a good blowjob. This was a man who had prepared well for what he had to do and knew that she would still get a lot of pleasure from him. The Mistress realized that if the slave made any further mistakes, more severe humiliation would make him feel truly inferior, thereby spurring him on to try even harder. This method of slave training was the most effective. The rough way the Mistress grabbed a handful of his hair and slid her mighty member between his lips, combined with deep thrusts, gave her a feeling of absolute power over this inferior slave. This made her member even harder. She sprayed her divine seed in powerful jets deep into his throat, forcing him to swallow it all.

A sense of euphoria washed over this Mistress because this slave had passed with flying colors, but of course, the slave will never be told that. While her slave was performing his cleaning duties under her skirt, the train slowed down as it pulled into the station and finally came to a stop. As the train crept past the platform, a man—a conductor—looked inside and just caught a glimpse of her little slave standing up.

Her slave opened the door, and the Mistress told him—without his colleague hearing—that she would contact him.

As she walked toward the exit, the cruel Mistress was already thinking about her next appointment. Her driver would pick her up and take her to Katwijk to inspect a house that would be transferred to her name by a notary the following day. A slave, who had been in the Mistress’s possession for five years, was the owner of this house. 

The slave assumed that he was transitioning from part-time slavery to full-time slavery, resulting in the transfer of all his possessions to the Mistress, after which the slave would move in with her as her live-in slave. So tomorrow his house would be transferred to her name, and tonight at 10:00 p.m. there would be a final inspection of the house by the Mistress, during which the slave was required to be present. The slave had been cleaning for a week already and anticipated a great deal of extra punishment because his strict, cruel Mistress would surely find plenty to criticize about the quality of his work. 

When she got outside, she looked for her car in vain; her driver was late. Because of the rain, the Mistress waited under a awning; about 20 meters away from her, she saw a small car with a young woman inside.