Ella was getting changed in the open plan changing rooms, a small area protected by a curtain on the ground floor, near the cloakroom. She had just put on her black fishnet tights and was attempting to fit the black PVC corset: she had resorted to squeezing it from her legs up, when he came in. Ella felt his eyes on her. She turned and saw a tall good looking guy, brown straight hair and a good physique. He didn’t wear a slave outfit, just a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers – tasteful – and a black collar with a chain.
Her corset looked stunning with a black miniskirt and black high heeled shoes fastened with black ribbon which wound up her well toned legs: he looked. The added 5 heel inches made her seem taller, when in fact she was only a respectable 5ft 6in. She was majestic in a pair of heels. She didn’t turn to see if the slave had finished changing. Better not give these mere mortals the idea they were important in any way… he was bound to be upstairs anyway. Oh well, she’d find him later.
She grabbed her crystal-studded whip, which had cost her a fortune. She wandered upstairs to the club. She exuded an aura… it had taken her some time to understand that it was the essence of power, of domination, that her soul yearned for… it had come from others, but it takes sometimes a friend to find one’s path… or an enemy.
“You should be a domme” her ex-husband’s last words had been – the last exchanged in their marital home – a long time ago fortunately. Maybe domestic bliss is not for everyone, as that had been the most boring time of her life. Maybe some people are born simply to be and do something else… maybe there’s no evil in that.
She sat on a red leather sofa in the big dungeon room. From where she was sitting she could see all the toys; the cage for trampling, the crawling area, various constructions where spanking was going on, the ‘pony ride’.
He spotted her. He was standing, somehow in view, at her side but didn’t dare move… it must be very difficult for a true submissive to approach a mistress as beautiful as she. She looked and smiled, yet she didn’t grace him with a call…yet.
Another man approached. Various slaves from the club had already asked her if they could indulge her in any whim or desire.
She nodded and the man started kissing her feet, shoes… she dismissed him a little later. A nice massage… then another one… and another one joined, the two men kissing her shoes and fondling her legs… but he was still standing there, looking in her direction. Good. At least he knew now who was boss.
She dismissed the men, kindly. She smiled at him and with a quick movement of the index finger she ordered him to come over… it was his turn now.
Without a word exchanged she pointed at her feet.
His body was impressive… he kneeled over. He removed her shoes and as she placed her feet on the ground he prostrated and started kissing her feet… she lifted her right foot up and he followed it with his face and holding it with one hand he kept kissing it. She smeared the sole on his face and stuck the toes in his mouth…he sucked them, one by one, then he started licking the sole…prostrated as he was in his worship, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. This was truly the perfect slave specimen!
She could feel the sexual energy emanating from him and welcomed it, receiving it in full…as she put her feet down again, she sat up and held his face between her beautiful hands. She kissed him lightly on the lips… and smiled.
“Come my dear… let’s go somewhere a bit more private” saying so, she gently took one of his hands and started walking towards the back of the club. He followed her… they went through a door and passed the goddess room, where men were allowed to speak only when spoken to. This was nice and there were girls offering some Tantric massage, but it was all a bit public for what Mistress had in mind. On the left they passed an outdoor space where smokers congregated, beyond that there was a grotto-like opening onto a dance floor. There were quite a few seats around the room, filled with music and confusing disco lights. Some of the seating was almost hidden, in the back, and the place was darkish, and empty. Perfect. This would provide the privacy needed.
“Darling, do you want to be my toy for a while? We can do so many good things…”
He couldn’t believe his luck. He had only attracted the attention of the most beautiful Mistress in the club… she was gorgeous. Blessed with a perfect oval face and luscious big eyes, dark long hair and an aura of power… he was so hard already…
“Yes Mistress I really want to be your toy” he managed to say, somehow. He even felt shy.
She smiled and kept watching him with her unusual intensity: she didn’t bother to hide it. In the other life, outside here, she was polite enough to tone it down. Here, she was staring, impudently, searching for the truth in his soul. There in the dark, to the sound of music, she had him lie on the floor. She kneeled down facing him, and when his face was at her pussy’s height she gently sat on it and started thrusting…he opened his mouth and sniffed her pussy, which he couldn’t touch as the fabric stood between, his cock went very hard and was now visible through his black Calvin Klein shorts…she sat on his face, almost suffocating him for a few seconds… and let go, thrusting again. She herself was getting very wet…
A part of her felt it was somehow very wrong, on some level, therefore very exciting, to be in a place like this, and had resisted coming here, finding a place like this, for a long time. Another part of her felt this place was perfect. Slave boys, men in collars, men kissing your dirty feet…was it about worshipping woman or humiliating man? Was it about power, but what power? Did it matter, really… she thrust again, a bit more forcefully… she now turned and positioned herself as if she was urinating on his face and started going up and down hitting his nose, gently… at some point he could stand no more and, risking a reaction from Mistress, he held her down and pulled the fabric aside a bit, just enough to reach to her clit and pussy hole and lick, lick, lick…lick.
Mistress was pleased. He was good at that, just the right strokes and lots of saliva to wet her even more…she turned again, the pussy to face him, now on her knees, holding onto the sofa, she sat again on his face while he worked her clit…a last stroke and she came.
“You may come now” she said quietly and he did, instantly, after her own orgasm…there was spunk all over his chest, it was a real mess…
“Look at that” said Mistress “That’s real good for your skin you know, darling?” She gave him a tissue so he could clean himself. When the spunk was dry she sniffed where it had been… and caressed his neck and smiled. He said nothing: you could see he loved it.
They both lay on the sofa for a few minutes, Mistress caressing him, and he worshipping her feet, in silence. It occurred to Mistress that she didn’t even know his name…maybe she didn’t want to know. Maybe it was better to do this just like this, like dogs, and leave it to fate. Fate had brought her to a place like this and fate was going to weave its thread… better leave things like they were? This was an experience to be lived in the moment…
She kissed him on the lips.
“Follow me now… we’ll go and have a look in the big room, see what’s happening” and they walked back to the central room.
“What’s your name?” she asked him then, taken by curiosity, as she was pulling him by the chain at his collar.
“Sam” he answered
“My name is Ella” she said and laughed.
This world was all upside down. Sex first, then names… all perfectly acceptable and normal. Men kissing women’s feet in humble worship… yet, who knows, maybe this was the real world after all? The world society was so desperately trying to conceal and repress…
The central room was now much fuller and very busy, it was like a circus with all sorts of attractions. They walked past a coffin-like structure which was transparent: a man was a lying in there, blindfolded, voluntarily. There were holes through the sides where Mistresses could put their hands in to poke the man, a lad in his late twenties early thirties with a good physique and a completely bald head. His facial features were very pleasing.
As Ella stopped to observe him, a cute black Mistress flanked her and nodded.
“Look. Look!” she said and put a hand in, grabbed his balls forcefully and twisted them… his pole went up instantly, and it was a very respectable size too. Ella eyed it with lust.
She poked him on his chest, took a nipple between her index finger and thumb and squeezed… the man moaned… this was hilarious… she did it again. The woman poked him in the stomach and on his other nipple.
Ella tried to imagine what the world looked like from a coffin like this, what sensory stimulus might hit this man, blindfolded, who liked the surprise of a poke and a squeeze… he could surely hear their voices.
Ella pulled her slave away.
“I have something else in mind for you…”
They reached a trampling station. A cage, large enough to contain about four men lying on its floor, was equipped with ropes hanging from its ceiling. A Mistress was having a bit of fun there walking with her 6 inches heels on a few guys: Jen didn’t like her that much. She had the appearance of a bad witch. Black boots and a long skirt that opened to the thigh and some sort of white corset. Her hair was bleached blond. In spite of her lack of class the men were entranced. She was wearing a wicked smile (her teeth weren’t that good) and her voice was rather strident. She was having fun walking all over their crotches, planting her heels in deep, then their faces, then with a sadistic streak she smeared the sole of her shoe on someone’s cheek, hanging from the ropes she danced around… she then tired of the routine.
She got out of the cage and emitted a terrible scream, a shout: two of the men kneeled over to kiss her feet. She insulted them, calling them sissies.
She grabbed one who was rather handsome by his collar and pulled him away: they went to sit somewhere at the side of the room, where a few leather sofas lived and she had her feet licked by the handsome slave.
Men were quite happy to be pulled around and to kiss feet, and just be of ornament to their Mistresses. A guy had written on his chest, with lipstick, ‘Daisy’s property’ quite a few times: he was standing behind his Mistress, held by a collar and chain, dressed in suspenders and women’s panties. Ella had seen him earlier on, on the whipping equipment, been given a good seeing to by Daisy (seemingly).
Ella sat on one of the sofas to have a rest, while her slave attended to her feet: this club was worth the entrance ticket if only to receive a nice foot massage…
There was a couple sitting right next. They seemed nice… she had an enormous pair of bazookas…
“Is it your first time here?” the guy asked Ella.
“Yes, it is” she said “What about you?”
“We have been before… what about you, are you dominant?” he asked.
“Well, the question never arose for me” Ella lied “I guess I like to switch… but yes probably I am” she looked at her newly acquired slave, who was very busy licking and sucking her pretty toes.
“We like to switch too… I mean to be honest with you I found it a bit difficult at the beginning, but it’s made easier by the fact that everyone is submissive here. We come here once a month, she treats me like a shit for an evening and she’s happy.”
But isn’t that perfect? thought Ella, isn’t it all about being happy, whatever makes you happy, with no harm done to anyone. She stopped the slave for a sec, kissed him lightly on the lips, and ordered him to continue, with a smile. Her feet felt fantastic.
It was time to move, to go, into the night and the unknown…back to her lair.
“This is me” she gave Sam a piece of paper, her number scribbled on it. “Call me. We’ll arrange some truly special me time” she kissed him and went. Now that she knew where the club was, she would be back, in time…
Sure enough he called and they set a time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When she opened the door, she was satisfied that it wasn’t a one night fancy that had attracted her to him: he was well built and young.
She smiled and indicated a room where he could get changed, and some garments he could wear, if he wanted to.
The room was a normal Ikea-like living room, adorned by various torture toys, whips, chains, a stool here and there, a black throw on the floor, collars, things. The typical ‘happy family’ furniture and light modern ambiance was somehow in contrast with the darkness of Mistress and her carnal desires.
When he emerged she didn’t waste time… she was gagging for it. HUNGER.
“Come here big warrior boy… now you are going to do something for me, darling” she licked her index finger “Now you are going to kiss my feet a bit and my legs and worship me properly… do you see this?” she indicated her pussy, with the very same index finger she had licked.
“This is my pussy, isn’t it? When you’ve done all the things I ask you, and when I want an orgasm, your are going to put your cock in here, till I orgasm… how does it sound to you, my love?”
He nodded.
“…and if you are really, really good with Miss E…you’ll have the privilege of wearing one of her collars… does it sound good?”
“Yes, it does” Sam said.
“Yes what, darling?”
“Yes Mistress”
“Yes Mistress… correct! Very well… you know what’s going to happen now don’t you?” and as she said so, Miss E took a couple of shackles, with leather cuffs and a chain, and fitted them nicely around his wrists, behind his back. Once secure, she lingered with her hand on his back, caressing it and observing the contrast between his skin and her long red nails. She gently pinched his skin then caressed it, then played with it again in an almost hypnotic motion, and sliding her hand on the back of his neck, whispered in his ear…
“We’ll put a nice collar here darling… look, I have just what you need… and it’s yours for keeps… if you are good.”
She produced a black leather number with diamond studs that would have put a dog to shame.
“Lovely isn’t it?” she laughed with a lack of respect only a sissy could take.
“Actually… you are going to wear it now” and she placed the collar on his neck.
“Now darling, do you think I care? About a sissy like you… who lets himself be treated like a… sissy? Walk on you knees behind me… chop chop! I haven’t got time to waste you know.”
She pulled him by the chain and they started walking around the room, a huge dungeon with all sorts of whips and shackles and torture seats and hooks to tie people up fixed into the stone walls. As they walked she turned now and then to look at him, and make contact, with a mischievous smile… then kept walking. She grew tired of it and she stopped abruptly.
“Oh my darling…” her finger outlined his mouth. She removed the shackles from his wrists, his arms and hands were free… they were on a black fluffy rug and Mistress Ella gently pushed him down so that he was lying supine with a direct view of her lovely legs and boots and pussy, well covered in a black thong. She thrust one boot gently on his right ear then the other one, then slowly his face, till she had the heel on his mouth, gently.
Gently she played with it then withdrew the heel and bent her legs as if in a position to urinate, her pussy right there, a couple of inches from his mouth: that distance and the thong covering it. Her knees on the floor, she was now sitting on his face, riding it, thrusting her thong gently and not so gently on his face, and she could feel his lips searching for her pussy, sniffing, desiring her.
He could take no more. His cock was fully erect in the skimpy slave underwear.
“Miss E, please, let me lick your pussy and your hole” pleaded the slave. He knew it was very wrong to ask his mistress to comply with any of his unimportant desires, mistress wouldn’t be pleased at all, mistress was going to be very cross…
“You know slave” Miss E said, with a cruel look in her eyes “that I don’t tolerate requests… you have the right to receive but not to ask in this establishment” and with these last words, she freed her whip which was tied on her right thigh.
“You like it, don’t you, my pussy, you sissy” she gave a last thrust on his mouth, making sure he had a good taste of the thong, and a good sniff at her juices, which were making the fabric wet.
“Oh, it’s not a question…don’t worry. I already know the answer. And so do you. The answer is that I’m not even answering you… just to put things in perspective, darling. Turn…now.”
As he turned she had a good look at his butt and grabbed it, squeezed it and then the squeeze became a pinch.
“Nice… now on all fours, for Miss E, darling” he complied…of course. Miss E was an unpredictable mistress. She could be cruel one minute, and then shower a slave with an incredible act of kindness, which betrayed a feeling of…love? Then, a moment later, to make things dire and worse, Miss E would say an even more twisted and capricious thing, which cut right through, as the kindness had opened the slave’s heart…to use loving words as tools for punishment was the resource of a truly sophisticated mind.
So the mistress sat on her slave, in riding position, and put a pair of black leather gloves on: with one hand whipping the back gently, as if to distract her victim, with the other, probing gently around the man’s backside, slightly twisted in her positioning, to match the shaping of her mind…as she probed, she gently massaged his balls, squeezed them and released them…then the butt hole, drawing circles around it, smaller and smaller circles… and as she probed, she started toying with it, as if wanting to put her finger in it…
“You don’t dare to ask, do you, sissy…because you like it, don’t you? You know, I’ll stop if you utter a single word…” she whipped a little bit harder, only once.
“That’s right” she stood up abruptly ”At the wall, slave. And if you are lucky you are gonna get some… later.”
She chained the man to the stand near the wall, arms up and legs apart.
“You have been a very naughty boy… asking all these questions” she whipped, harder than before, then she teased his back, with the whip, rhythmically, as if toying with him… “Mistress is not pleased” again, lashing out with the whip, with no mercy.
“Mistress is having a hard time understanding why you didn’t listen to a word she said… you know that if Mistress is not satisfied with your behaviour Mistress is going to give you a hard time too…”
There was no structure or logic to the way the lashes were raining down, stopping or starting again, no consistency to their strength, as some were very gentle and some very hard, and no way of knowing what may come next… so from the relative calm of a Mistress’ pussy being thrust in the slave’s face, the scene had now changed to Mistress raging and whipping, with no way of knowing when this was going to stop…but it did, as abruptly as it had started.
She placed her gloved hand on his back, the same she had used to massage his throbbing hole, and she caressed his back, all around where the lashes had left their sign: and after some time of this loving routine, she kissed his back on the shoulder, then a trail of kisses, from one ridge to the other, and again she caressed the area, without a single word uttered.
Then her hand wandered down and she took his balls in one hand, and caressed and squeezed, and reached to the cock, and with one finger she drew a line from the head to the balls, then grabbed the cock, like a handle, for a split second, as if to give him a hand job from behind, giving the illusion of such a thing, and cruelly gauging his reaction, when he realised that the hand had left and so had Mistress, who was now standing at a distance, laughing and calling him loser and sissy for taking this incredible amount of shit, and for taking the next instalment, which was just about to cum…hahahaha as if, loser, pitiful loser.
“Aw…but you need some rest” said Mistress, with fake pity and understanding “Oh darling, you look a bit battered, don’t you? Come over here” and the cruel woman unlocked his shackles and pulled him rudely by the chain at his neck, like you do with a bad, bad, bad slave. He followed her to a stand, a sort of elongated table-like structure which was slightly reclining downwards, and it was soon explained why.
“Now, darling, you are going to be a good, good boy and lie down here, yes, good boy, like that…here.”
The mighty warrior was obediently lying supine on the table, and he could see her face, adorned by a mocking smile, observing his humiliation and enjoying it: ready to inflict some more…
“Oooooh” she cooed “you….like it! Don’t you?” and with this, still mocking him, still faking understanding and empathy, she placed her gloved finger on his hole, spreading his legs, like a bitch, in her own words, and started slowly massaging it. She took some oil and applied it on his asshole to make it more willing: he arched his back slightly and thrust his head sideways…his face partially hidden, did he want somehow to hide his shame? It was a face disfigured by pleasure…
She slipped her finger in him, slowly, deliberately, keeping her gaze on his face, to absorb to the full his surrender to this pleasure…he moaned, a small moan.
“Now, you little sissy, the ultimate humiliation for a little bitch like you would be to put a nice dildo in there wouldn’t it?” she smirked, aware of her power over him. He didn’t answer, he knew he wasn’t supposed to.
“ Well, that’s not gonna happen though, is it? Because I know you like it. You are here for your Mistress’ entertainment, always remember that, you little sissy.”
Mistress took her finger out of his throbbing hole right before he was about to cum: Mistress knew his slave well…each time Mistress liked to push him a bit further, or give him the idea of what was going to happen, and as soon as she sensed he was up for something, really up for it, she would cruelly twist things around and take the candy away…which left him even more thirsty, hungry, for her and for her bad, bad ways…
She took her gloves off with a gesture of disgust, far from trying to disguise it she made sure he saw it fully. She then caressed his face very tenderly, and for a minute, maybe a second, one could have mistaken it for the look of love in her eyes… How long did the caressing last for? As time extended and bended at the mercy of Mistress, it was difficult to say. She drew over his mouth following the design of his lips, and then gently kissed him, touching his lips only slightly, and as she started licking them, so he responded drawing his tongue onto hers, and embracing her, their bodies touching frontally as he was now sitting on the table.
She embraced him too, and he started slowly placing his hands on her derriere, the way he knew Mistress liked it.
“I want an orgasm now” she stated.
She took his hand, and avoiding his gaze, feeling his desire for her, she walked seductively across the room to a small black leather sofa. She climbed onto the back of the sofa, next to the wall, placing her feet on the seat and opened her legs seductively. The slave, without a word, started licking her most private and treasured part, her pussy…
“You have been a good boy for me” she whispered “Now give me an orgasm my darling.”
Her pussy was like a ripe exotic fruit that tasted of paradise. He licked around the lips and then gently on the clit, the way Mistress had taught him and instructed him in previous sessions. A good well behaved slave has to know how to pleasure his Mistress…that’s the only reason I’m teaching you this, you sissy.
Sooner or later Miss E always reminded her slaves of their place… they had to know that the kindness she exercised was really kindness towards herself.
The slave dutifully licked her clit, gently, on top, at first not that fast, then increasing the speed and small strokes, always gently, then pressing a little bit harder at times… He heard Mistress moan, and he knew that meant he should again continue and increase speed a bit and suck the clit gently and then go back to stroking it with his tongue… Miss E’s hands were playing with his hair, when she was not pulling it, not forcefully enough to divert his course, but clearly to indicate that she did appreciate his work…one last well-placed lick of his well-trained tongue brought her to ecstasy and it was then that she pressed her hands so that his mouth was squashed to her pussy…he stopped. The slave himself was so aroused by Mistress’ orgasm that he could not contain himself anymore…
“I beg you Mistress, allow me to cum, I beg you, I beg you, please Mistress…”
She paused, her eyes closed, still in the mist of pleasure, supposedly, or maybe purposely ignoring his pleas, maybe a bit of both…was she deciding which one to apply, studied cruelty or sweet love? Truth said, she didn’t know herself what was going to happen next…as she opened her eyes, the Mistress saw the slave’s face, deformed and at loss, deprived of any sense of remaining dignity. Oh, didn’t she know that one. She had chipped at his sense of self for months, every time a little bit more, a little bit deeper, a little bit more humiliating and harsher…and sweeter.
Mistress closed her legs, abruptly, and left hold of the chain linked to his collar, in disdain. She walked over to the window, and not caring to disguise herself, she stood there, scantly dressed and looked outside, caring very little obviously for whatever was going on around her. As the slave approached, crawling towards her, to please her, she acknowledged his presence with an indifferent glance and walked away.
She sat on the sofa, seemingly utterly bored and handling a remote, switched on a screen TV which was hanging from the wall, like a picture: some inconsequential programme came up, chat show, but she started flicking through the channels and finally stopped at some music. Still ignoring the slave, who had crawled up to her again on all fours, she grabbed her mobile phone and dialled a number.
The slave’s interest seemed to increase as hers decreased, as he now focused entirely on pleasing her and dutifully started kissing and licking her boots: Mistress didn’t seem affected by the action in any positive or negative way, she actually seemed totally taken by a conversation with a male friend, with whom she seemed to be friendly enough to have sexual relations… oh Mistress E had quite a few male friends, not sissies like the slave, they could actually fuck her and she liked it and she actually let them do things to her which the sissy slave was never going to even dream of doing… Mistress was really enjoying her conversation…
“…oh well darling, we’ll have to catch up, hm? What do you think… oh yes, I’d be happy to see you tomorrow night for some play… lovely… I’ll get the PVC sheets ready, so you give me a good pounding with the oils… your hands are magical… bye my darling, you know I really like you… kiss kiss…” she hung up.
A look of disgust came back to her face.
“And what are you looking at?” she barked at him, as the slave met her gaze “God, you are so useless” she yawned.
“Anyway, I think you have had enough for today… perfect, my boots are nice and shiny I see… hm” she smiled pleased “One good thing about having you around I suppose… you are useful” and she placed a hand on his head.
The slave cherished that contact and moaned, imperceptibly. That, obviously, didn’t escape Mistress E, well aware of her power over him.
“Actually, darling…I tell you what, stay like that… on all fours? You are cute” she smirked, and pulled him gently around so that she could place her legs on his back, as if he was a stool, and she crossed her legs, leisurely, without a care in the world, contradicting in that very gesture the assertion that it was enough. It obviously wasn’t…
Mistress started idly playing with the neck chain and flicking through the channels, indifferent to the slave again. Then she bent her knees and planted, not too forcefully, the boots’ heels in his flank. This made him tremble slightly.
“Oh, I am sorry is that of any bother?” she snapped and she walked towards the wall, grabbed a whip, one with lots of long black leather tails.
The slave didn’t move as she started walking around him, her boots clacking on the floor, clack…clack…rhythmically.
“Head down, slave… look at my feet” she barked, angry. All the evils of the world, all the evils of her life, were now his fault. He deserved to be punished, this individual, this entity, this number, this slave without a name…she couldn’t have remembered his name if she had wanted to. A cloak had descended on her mind, covering it in darkness: a darkness she had in her soul, somewhere, which she allowed to come out in here, on him. Mistress was maybe a bit fearful of her own desires herself, at times… Mistress didn’t totally understand the cravings of her soul herself, but at each lash, at each kiss on her boots, her mood seemed to lighten, her body seemed to relax, in a similar way his body did… where the game began and finished, and if this was the game or the reality, her mind at times couldn’t say… it all blended in one strange bundle, even where slave and Mistress were out and about, in the life the others called ‘normal’, acting ‘normal’, like every ‘normal’ couple, the two realities collided and blended and Mistress and slave could read them when their eyes locked and searched and talked to each other…
Mistress stopped to have a good look at the slave’s posterior and back, touched the skin as if to prepare him as to where the punishment was going to be administered and the first lash fell, a bit harder than the ones she had given him before…
STORY ENDS
