Steven sat staring at his laptop, openmouthed in amazement, at the email that had appeared out of nowhere in the account he reserved for his secret, erotic purposes. It was from a woman who called herself Mistress Susan and she was saying how much she had enjoyed a femdom story he had written and posted on a website.
As an amateur writer of erotic fiction with the emphasis on dominance of women over men it was a dream come true. He had received much positive feedback about his stories from men who shared his inclinations but had always wondered if women might find them enjoyable as well. To have a full fledged dominant mistress whose husband was her slave praise his work was more than he could ever have hoped for. He replied immediately, thanking her profusely for this validation.
Steven had just turned forty and had been widowed five years before when his beloved wife had been in a horrific car crash. A shy and introverted man, he had spent those five years lonely and womanless. He wasn't inclined to pursue women in bars and found prostitutes repugnant. He dabbled in online dating sites but found them to be filled with shallow and selfish people.
And, more and more, his hidden inclination had emerged. All his life, even before puberty he had entertained fantasies of being dominated, degraded and enslaved by strong women. He had found some outlet for his fantasies in his marriage. His wife had been a strong willed and lustful woman who insisted upon being satisfied through cunnilingus and anallingus before permitting him to enter her and satisfy himself. But his fantasies ran well beyond that, into the extreme, involving whippings, genital torture, strapons, toilet servitude and whatever else his perverse imagination could conjure. His writing gave him an outlet for these fantasies and his stories were lurid, filled with relentless sexual activity, and written with expressive passion.
There began a prolonged communication between himself and Mistress Susan. She revealed that her life as a Mistress did indeed include most of the elements of his stories, including her insistence that her husband's mouth serve as her toilet. Matters even extended beyond Steven's boundaries to demanding her husband perform sex acts with other men. She confessed that watching him degrade himself by performing fellatio upon her command gave her great pleasure. And she belonged to a wide network of people with similar proclivities.
Steven indulged freely in masturbatory activity with perverse embellishments and he confessed these to Mistress Susan feeling a compulsion to bare his soul. He said he knew he should refrain from this but admitted he was too weak to stop himself.
He professed his longing to become a slave, but Mistress Susan was skeptical. She doubted he understood the reality of it all and believed that when confronted with that reality he would quail in the face of it and reveal himself as a pretender. To prove her point Mistress asked him if he ate his cum after he masturbated, and Steven confessed that he would begin his masturbation with the intent and strong desire to do so but once he ejaculated his desire would pass and he would just wipe his mess from the floor. Mistress told him this was clear evidence he was a pretender whose only concern was satisfying his own desires.
Their communication continued over several weeks, but Steven became clingy and needy and pressed her to admit there was some kind of "relationship" between them. This angered her, and she tersely terminated their communications, saying she was happily married to her slave husband and had a full and rewarding life with no need for some clingy pretender. Steven accepted this with some sadness and troubled her no more.
But, after a couple of months, in spite of herself, Mistress Susan, couldn't entirely stop thinking about him. She had come to at least like him during their conversations and felt some pity for him in his longing and loneliness. And she found it irksome to know for certain there was a man out there masturbating without inhibition, enjoying it, and not even lapping up his cum. It offended her every instinct as a Mistress. Though she didn't want to waste any more of her own time on him she came up with a solution.
Steven had divulged his general whereabouts to her. As it happened she was acquainted with another Mistress who resided in that locale, an old friend, Andrea, with whom she had lost touch over the years. She had heard over the grapevine that Andrea had been widowed as well about a year ago, her beloved slave husband being taken by an untimely heart attack.
Mistress Susan still had Andrea's email and she chose to contact her and explain her dilemma. Andrea's curiosity was piqued. She confessed to being lonely and horny. Mistress Susan forwarded the emails between herself and Steven to familiarize Andrea with his situation. Then, believing matters to be in good hands she forgot about Steven for the time being but didn't rule out following up on things later out of curiosity.
Steven got another shocking and thrilling email some time later from a woman who introduced herself as Mistress Andrea:
"Steven. Mistress Susan, an old friend of mine, has contacted me regarding you. She has forwarded emails to me that make me familiar with your situation, your 'longings' and your aspiration to be a slave. I find your confessed masturbatory behavior to be particularly offensive and disgusting. While I share her doubts about your sincerity, I will nevertheless grant you the opportunity to prove us wrong. I will expect you to report to my home Friday evening a seven o'clock sharp. Tardiness will not be tolerated and will add considerably to the severe punishment that already awaits you for your wanking. I intend to make your every fantasy a reality and go well beyond your so called 'limits.' If you wish to prove yourself I will expect to see you naked and on your knees before me Friday evening. You need not reply to this message. Your failure to arrive will be proof positive you are a fraud."
She went on to give him her address on a street in an old and stately neighborhood in the city.
Steven's hands shook, and he sweated as he read and reread the message. It was early Thursday morning and he knew the two days ahead would be eternity. Terror mingled with his longing. He called in sick from work that day and Friday as well, knowing he would be distracted and worthless. It was January and bitter cold outside, but he took some long walks regardless to ease the stress of waiting. He drank two bottles of merlot Thursday night to knock himself out, knowing sleep would be otherwise impossible.
Friday afternoon was spent vacillating. His cock was stiff and dripping in his pants as he anticipated what might happen and he had to force himself to refrain from using his hand to ease himself, sensing Mistress Andrea would somehow discern his guilt, with consequences he dared not contemplate. But then fear would take hold and he would wilt and decide, for the moment, to stand her up.
But in the end, at 6:30 he got in his car and set out. Snow and Friday after work traffic slowed him and he had to park a block from her house with just five minutes to spare. He half ran to her door and rang the bell. There was a speaker beside the door and he heard her voice, deep pitched and stern.
"You're late! Enter!"
The door opened into a spacious foyer and he heard her again through another speaker.
"Remove your clothing and crawl down the hallway to the first doorway on the left."
He obeyed with hands shaking so badly he tangled himself in his clothes as he stripped. He groveled down the hallway over the hard, polished black granite tiles to find a wide doorway into a vast living room furnished in elegant dark wood and black leather. There was a large coffee table in the center of the room with couches and armchairs arranged around it. On the left was a fireplace, where a fire burned bright. And seated in a large, thronelike black leather chair at the other end of the room was Mistress Andrea.
From twenty feet or so distance her could see she was an average sized woman with dark brown hair in a bun, wearing a low cut black silk, dress, fishnet stockings and black spike heeled pumps. She pointed to a spot on the floor before her throne.
"Come here Steven!"
He made haste to crawl to her, hurting his knees on the hard tiles. When he reached the spot, he stopped and knelt with eyes cast down, trembling. To his shame, he was rampantly erect and could tell he was dripping. He looked up at her furtively and met deep green eyes set in an attractive oval face with full, sensuous lips, now with a stern and disapproving expression. She was perhaps a bit plump but in a shapely sort of way with full, heavy breasts. The dress exposed deep cleavage. He guessed she was some years his senior but well preserved and exuding a dominant and predatory sexuality. Her eyes were riveted on his erection and her lip curled in contempt.
"Look at you, you pig! Hard as wood and dripping your filth on my floor. Lick it up!"
He looked down and saw the wide puddle of his precum. He went to hands and knees and stooped to lap it up, taking care to leave the floor spotless, then resumed his kneeling posture, his erection still jutting.
"Come closer Steven!"
He knee-walked forward a couple of feet, glanced up again and saw her holding a long riding crop which she swung in a fierce unerring stroke that struck his glans full on. The stabbing pain doubled him over and his cock wilted. He recovered a bit and straightened up, cock now hanging limp. It took all his will to keep it down.
"When I want you to have an erection I will tell you. But for now, you are unworthy so any more rising will earn you another stroke. This introductory session between us will be brief compared to the others that might follow if you persuade me of your sincere desire to be an unselfish slave who shows absolute and unquestioning obedience and submission. Now kiss my feet!"
He all but flung himself to his belly on the floor and showered her shoes and insteps until she raised one foot and ordered him to lick the sole of her shoe and then suck on the heel. He obeyed each command immediately. She made him switch to the other foot and repeat then put her foot against his forehead and shoved him back. His erection had grown again despite him and he bowed low to hide it. But she ordered him to kneel at attention and he got another, even harder, crop stroke when this exposed him.
"You will get the same every time until you learn. Now for a test. Look at me!"
He first looked up into her eyes, but she directed his gaze lower until he saw she had hiked up her skirt to reveal she wore no panties, only garters. She parted her legs to exhibit herself fully. Her dense bush was raven black and riven by her lurid pink gash. She used the fingers of one hand to part her ragged labia and expose her large and protuberant clitoris.
