It had started as a playful exchange online, but each seemed to know the rules and what was expected. The inevitable meeting ‘for coffee’ had been eagerly anticipated by each and the time spent in each others company had been as expected; polite, amicable, flirtatious and with a building tension of expectancy.
The niceties were interspersed with risqué flirtations as rules and roles were laid out through thinly veiled speech. It had amazed him that this seemed so easy, often without the need for clarity. Some how they just seemed to be on the same wavelength.
On meeting they had recognised each other immediately. Her close fitting dress, sheer nylons, heels and expertly applied make up meant she immediately stood out from the sea of sportswear and trainer clad women that seemed to pass for fashion these days. He, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, polished shoes and silk tie looked equally elegant. She noticed his clothes were neat and well cared for and that his shirt cuffs were French style with silver cufflinks. His hair was greying but it gave him a sophisticated air. If anything, she mused to herself, he looked very masterful rather than a man who adored being played with, teased and humiliated by a woman.’
‘Yes I can be,’ he offered in conversation, as if reading her thoughts’ but you see in a position of decision making and power such as I hold, its just exquisite to hand oneself over to an exciting and dominant lady, not butch you understand, but one who knows how to control me with look of an eye, the swish of a nyloned leg and the click of high heel on a tiled floor.’
She knew exactly of course. Her stable of admirers had taught her the skills that were already dormant in her mind from a young age and she had learned the true power that men of this calibre were willing to hand over in their wish to worship women, as of course it should be!
She crossed her legs slowly and deliberately causing the swish of nylon to capture his attention, and caught his eye as he looked.
‘Naughty boy,’ she whispered softly with a smile.
He blushed slightly clearly embarrassed, but she loved every moment.
It was his desire to blurt out his innermost wishes, to share his fetish and with this vamp, yet he was aware that for all their online flirting she was a stranger and a temporary pang of hesitation prevented him for fear of mockery.
She sensed this and took control of the situation admirably.
‘It’s alright, its nice to be so admired, and by such a gentleman,’ she reassured him. ……………………….
Out side the rain gently fell and their conversation came to a lull. ‘I have a little shopping to do, would you like to help me?’ she asked politely.
The gentleman in him agreed, and the naughty boy in him sensed the opportunity to watch those lovely stocking clad legs in shiny black high heels as he allowed her to walk ahead …
‘Yes of course he answered quickly.’
Outside the café he raised the umbrella, and she snuggled close taking his arm to shield her from the rain. They began to walk in step along the pavement, the click clack of her heels sending pulses of pleasure through him. He noticed how the rain splashed on her stockinged feet and found this curiously arousing and exciting and imagined what joy it would be to be kneeling before gently sipping champagne from her high arches and toes.
She called into several shoe shops and taunted him with ever higher heels; on the third visit she felt confident enough to assert her authority. Sitting on the stool she crossed her long legs and waited. It took him a couple of seconds to realise what was expected..
Shoes please, there’s good boy.’
He felt himself blush slightly but almost as if in a trance knelt before her and removed the shoe that was dangling from her toes softly tickling the sole of her foot as he did so. He felt a burning sensation in his face as he realised that the young female shop assistants were looking on. At first they interpreted his action as one of a loving husband, but quickly realised he was being put a position of submission. Their embarrassed giggles caused his face to redden even more. Fantasy was one thing, being made to do this for real was another, yet he was hooked.
After visits to several more shops, during which time the weather had brightened, the sight to an onlooker would have proved interesting: A well dressed man fully laden with boxes and carrier bags from the finest stores struggled to retain control of them whilst just ahead of him a haughty a refined lady walked with her head held high clutching nothing more than a small handbag. Occasionally she would look over her shoulder and smile at him.
‘Do try to keep up dear boy,’ she would instruct before turning to walk on. In turn he was allowed the pleasure of viewing the perfectly straight seams which ran up the back of her stockinged legs before disappearing into the hem of her pencil skirt just above the knee.
Eventually she was escorted to her car, and he carefully loaded her purchases onto the rear seat. It was that awkward moment of parting. The gentleman in him took over once again.
‘I’ve really enjoyed meeting, maybe we could stay in touch? He asked politely. She chuckled, mildly amused.
My dear boy I’m not through with you yet. Dinner this evening 8pm.’ With that she placed a calling card in his hand, kissed him on the cheek and was in her car. He caught a glimpse of the welt of her stocking top before closing the door. She was away in seconds.
At five to eight he rang the doorbell of her home. It was a pleasant detached house with well maintained gardens. He heard the click of her heels and the door was opened. She stood before him in a simple yet close fitting black cocktail dress. It hemmed at the knee and as she led the way he was delighted to observe that she wore a new pair of black suede court shoes that she had chosen that afternoon. Her fully fashioned barely black stockings shimmered in the evening light the seams were perfect. ‘Cuban heel’ he thought aloud noticing the pattern behind her ankle.
He was somewhat surprised on entering the lounge to see another lady reclining on a settee with a chilled drink in her hand. In her mid forties she looked graceful and classical. She greeted him with a smile of her cherry red lips but made no attempt to move.
‘This is Barbara, I thought it might be fun for her to join us,’ intoned his playful mistress. He noticed that Barbara’s long legs were also encased in sheer nylons and as he looked she flicked her left shoe so that it dangled from her foot. He licked his drying lips, and noticed a wry smile from Barbara.
Dinner was a pleasant and convivial affair and he found himself relaxing and enjoying the company of these two very stylish, attractive and sexy ladies. He wondered what they knew of one another. Where they friends? Lovers? Did one know of the others fetish for dominating men? He was intrigued.
After dinner they retired to comfortable chairs where the conversation continued.
‘Be a good boy and refill our glasses will you.’ He was slightly taken aback by this sudden request delivered in such a way, and in front of her friend. He felt himself blushing again.
‘Oh don’t worry; Barbara is well aware of my pleasures. In fact I invited her to help in your training, isn’t that kind of me?’
‘Well, yes I….’ He got no further
‘Fill those glasses then, quick with it.’ Interjected his mistress and stopping him mid sentence
He noticed his hands trembling, and felt his heart thumping as he steadily refilled each ladies glass. He returned the bottle to the cooler and turned to notice that both ladies were now sat together on the settee and looking at him intensely.
‘No time like the present; now come and kneel before us.’
His tummy churned as he knelt before the two lovely ladies. Instinctively he bowed his head and softly kissed the tops of their stockinged feet.
‘Stay there and listen,’ came a voice from above.
‘You have to pass a number of tests if you want to serve me. Some will be humiliating, others pleasurable. Tonight’s is about endurance. Now then sweet boy go into my bedroom and return naked. Off you go.’
He scuttled quickly to his feet and raced upstairs to find the bedroom. His mind awash with a mix of emotions. He was excited, his tummy rolled, his heart thumped. His body wasn’t sure what to feel or how to react. He felt he should be hard, wildly aroused and in one sense he was. Yet his overexcitement and the avalanche of emotions meant that he was only semi erect. Perhaps he should leave now, but he knew there was no turning back. He felt strangely shy and could not bring himself to strip completely. Instead he returned to the room wearing only his shirt, and like a naughty schoolboy found himself trying to pull the front down to cover himself as he re-entered the room.
‘I do believe our little man is shy,’ commented Barbara. He hung his head slightly but quickly realised that they were playing rather than being overtly cruel. He found their voices both teasing and soothing.
They stood and helped him out of his shirt their soft hands and stroking his body. As he relaxed he responded and felt himself harden with great relief.
As his mistress toyed with him Barbara moved out of his sight to another couch.
‘Well now lets begin,’ said his mistress and turned him to face Barbara. He caught his breath at the sight that faced him. Stripped to her basque seamed nylons and heels she had positioned herself on the couch kneeling. She rested her face on her hands and had dipped her back at an amazing angle in order to present herself to him.
With his Mistresses soft hand encircling his engorged manhood he was lead until he nuzzled between Barbara’s cheeks. He felt a warm hand on his buttocks as he was gently eased forward. Barbara was relaxed and moist and he entered her gently and slowly. She caught her breath softly in the delicious agony.
‘You are to pleasure Barbara, but you are not to come,’ the instruction was soft yet firm. He positioned his hands on her slim waist and began deep slow thrusts. Within seconds Mistresses right hand appeared in front of his face. Her long slender manicured fingers were tipped with shiny red nails, but it was the long white feather she held which betrayed her purpose.
He felt the exquisite electric sensation soar through him as the feather was swept expertly across his tight balls. Looking down he held more firmly onto Barbara’s slim waist, closed his eyes, gritted his teeth in some hopeless attempt to hold out, but Mistress knew best!
He felt here warm breath near his ear and sensed her fragrant perfume;
‘Maximum control dear boy, maximum control,’ she whispered tantalisingly knowing that he was exercising every ounce of self control not to disgrace himself
It was more than the poor man could stand..
He was teased expertly, one could say lovingly with the feather. The soft sensations wavering from forward and back to side to side. Each change of direction causing him to catch his breath.
‘Oh God,’ he whispered involuntarily as he found himself building as expertly tickled the inside of his thighs. He began to thrust deeper and buck his hips.
Beneath him Barbara was fast going into a frenzy of lust
‘Oh you good boy fuck me hard,’ she yelled in between her groans and soft moans
‘Are you going to fail me?’ he was softly asked, by his Mistress who had gently rubbed herself beside him and knew the dreadful paradox in which he found himself
‘N..N..No,’ he stammered, but she knew she had him and could play with him. His situation was hopeless.
She cupped his balls softly in her slender fingers and continued to softly tickle him. His thrusts were now becoming as frenzied as Barbara’s He could hold back no longer …he had failed …
Three deep thrusts finished him.
It felt like an explosion of light deep in his groin. Almost crying in relief and despair he pushed himself deep and let his self control abandon any inhibitions. Within seconds Barbara too was taken over the edge and dissolved into a mass of intense pleasure.
Beside him Mistress, desperately attempting to conceal her own excitement, soothed him and stroked his forehead, her voice soft and gentle.
‘Well now my naughty stallion, we will have to pay for our failure wont we?’
‘Yes Mistress,’ he managed to utter from his limp and defeated body.
He was gently withdrawn and sent to the bathroom to shower. On his return he was informed that Barbara had retired to bed, she was very pleased with his performance and he would be allowed to serve her breakfast in bed in the morning. His Mistress requested another drink which he delivered to her on his knees.
‘We clearly have to teach you some self control wont we? She asked rhetorically. He looked pleadingly into her eyes hoping that he would not be abandoned by her. She stood, removed her dress, and sat back in the chair. She offered her left foot first, gently tracing a circle around his face with her toes.
‘Well now my little pet let’s see what you can do shall we?’ The question was delivered in soft honeyed teasing tones and it taunted him excitingly.
He responded hungrily gently caressing her ankles in his soft hands, he attentively and slavishly planted kisses on each of her toes and gently and slowly licked across her arches. The pattern was repeated with her right foot. She purred with delight as her foot slave fulfilled his task lovingly and dedication. It was now time for more
She lifted herself slightly off the couch.
‘Remove my panties,’ she instructed. He did so carefully and gently.
‘And now you will pleasure me.’ She took his head in her hands and steered his face between her legs. She draped her right leg over his shoulder. The delicious aroma of womanhood intoxicated and excited him. He closed his eyes and allowed his tongue to seek out the warm moist centre of her being.
He licked slowly and softly, then quickly and firmly. Above him his mistress moaned in ecstasy.
His pleasure was to serve. His own desires subservient to those of his mistress and her friends.
To ‘serve’ was the most exquisite of tortures and pleasures, his acceptance into the world of submission and domination finally complete.