I knew I was in trouble even before I knocked on Mistress’s front door. It was shortly after eleven o’clock that I received a text message from her, written in capitals so that there could be no doubt about her feelings.
YOU WILL ATTEND MY CHAMBERS AT TWO O’CLOCK TODAY WITHOUT FAIL. NO EXCUSES WILL BE ACCEPTED. MISTRESS
This was poor timing on Mistress’ part, if I may be so impertinent as to say such a thing, since at two o’clock I was due to chair a meeting of the Project Board for the large construction project my firm was working on. However I knew that the command of my Mistress was a sacred law and must be obeyed. So I pretended I had a splitting headache and was feeling sick and left work at twelve to drive to the chambers.
I was dressed in my suit and feeling a little like a debt collector when, my heart thumping, I knocked on the door. It was the stroke of two o’clock when the door swung open. In the usual way Mistress was not to be seen. I walked nervously into the hallway. Before I could look round I had been pushed hard into the wall and as I turned to face Mistress I saw her dressed in a leather catsuit with stilettos , her hair scraped severely back and tied into a ponytail. She looked magnificent and furious.
She came up close and spat in my face saying
‘You worthless piece of shit! You piece of filth!’
I made to wipe away the spittle from my face but she grabbed my wrist and forced my arm back down by my side.
‘Don’t even think of wiping your face!’
With her face contorted by rage she spat at me again and slapped me hard across the check. I had never seen her like this before and I was afraid.
‘Take your clothes off’ she ordered ‘and place them in a neat pile on that chair. Then kneel facing the wall with your hands on your head.’
Mistress walked into the lounge leaving me on my own. I hurried to comply with her order , anxious that she should not become even angrier. Naked, and feeling very vulnerable, I knelt and waited for Mistress to return.
She came back, shutting the lounge door firmly and decisively. She said nothing but walked backward and forward on the parquet floor, deliberately letting her heels click so as to increase the tension and my anxiety. I was very anxious, my bottom exposed, my penis hanging limply down, seeming to invite torture. I was going to suffer. Mistress surely had some implement or other in her hand to inflict pain. Just as the tension was becoming unbearable Mistress commanded me:
‘Turn round on your knees to face me. Do not look at me, keep your head bowed.’
I longed to raise my head and look Mistress in the face, she was a beautiful woman but I knew what punishment awaited me if I did. I focused instead on her Louboutin shoes and the space of floor between us where I was surely about to grovel.
‘Place both hands on the floor, palms down’ she commanded and I did as I was told. Before I could react she came forward to stand on the hands before rocking forward onto the balls of her feet and rocking back so that the spiked heels dug into my hands with the full weight of Mistress’ body bearing down on them. I cried out in pain but Mistress laughed.
‘You’re a wimp. What are you?’
‘A wimp Mistress’ I whispered.
‘A big girl’s blouse.’
‘I’m a big girl’s blouse Mistress’ I responded without waiting for the prompt.
Mistress Doom stepped off my hands and stood with the toes of the shoes just touching my outstretched fingers as I knelt before her.
‘Lean forward you worm and worship my shoes and as you do, look at them very carefully.’
I leant forward and even before I began to lick the right shoe, which Mistress had proffered, I could see a scratch and a scuff mark on the leather.
‘What do you see?’ asked Mistress.
‘I see a scratch and scuff marks Mistress’ I said.
‘Yes you certainly do,’ continued Mistress, ‘and where do you think they came from?’
‘I don’t know Mistress’ I began to reply but Mistress placed the toe of one shoe under my chin and lifted my head up so that I looked her in the face.’
‘Yes you do. They come from your miserable attempts to clean them in your last session.’
She took my suit from the chair and threw it on the floor. She walked all over it digging in the heels and twisting them to make holes in the jacket.
‘Please Mistress, no!’
‘Shut up. You ruined my things. I’m ruining yours. That seems fair enough to me’
She walked across the hallway dragging my jacket underneath the heels. She dug the stilettos into the material and had soon separated the jacket into two halves. She did not let up and had soon torn my expensive jacket into four pieces.
She threw my shirt onto the floor and had soon shredded that too.
She picked up a piece of what had been my jacket and said
‘Wank all over that.’
I held it in my right hand and began to work the tip of my cock with my thumb.
‘Faster’ she shouted and pushed her shoe into my face. I could feel the small pieces of grit on the red soles and licked as she commanded me.
She thrust the heel into my mouth and commanded
‘Suck the heel like you would a cock.’
My fingers were sweaty, the precome that was dribbling out made my cock slippery and my thumb slid inside the foreskin making my wanking uncomfortable, I dried my thumb on my face and tried again.
‘I said wank. Do it properly. I’ve got another slave coming at three so you’d better hurry up. Wank I said!’
It was fear that made me knead the tip of my cock more and more vigorously. I wanted to take my punishment and go. This time I came quickly and held the cloth over my cock as the creamy come spurted out. I pulled the foreskin back and moved my hand back and forth, squeezing the come out as I did so. Then I let my hand drop. I was exhausted.
I held the cloth fragment up to Mistress and bowed my head.
‘Rub it round your face.’
I imagined washing myself with a flannel, and rubbed the come over my cheeks, my forehead around my chin and neck. I felt it become sticky, smelt its powerful aroma. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror where I was usually brought to see myself as a maid. Now I was a naked, broken man, sweaty, dirty and stinking of come.
‘Now get out of my sight.’
I made for the door, not daring to look back.
I looked at Mistress. She held them up, looked at them and commented with a smile
‘Skidmarks. A big boy like you can’t even wipe his bottom properly.’
I went red and pulled on the soiled underwear. She handed me my wallet and keys.
‘I won’t keep your car keys. What would I do with a cheap and nasty car like yours?’
It wasn’t a cold day, I was glad of that, even more glad that I had my car close by. I made its safety without being seen and sat there in a daze trying to reconstruct this most unexpected afternoon. I put my hand down my underpants and masturbated to Mistress. As the come flowed out over my hand I smiled. I was so happy to be her slave and knew that the list of things I would not endure for her was getting shorter each time.