I would like to thank a special friend for her proof reading skills and for her advice generally which have made this story better than it would otherwise have been.
WARNING: This story contains a scene of "golden showers," female on male consensual urination. If this is not for you then I would suggest that you proceed no further as I have no wish to offend anyone.
It's the story of the visit, by an experienced older submissive, to a young dominatrix for the first time. It is an accurate story of what happened to a client during a real visit to a dominatrix not the usual D/s fantasy world. Although I do enjoy them because I write that type of story.
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He glanced at his watch. For the twentieth time since setting off. Or was it the fiftieth time? He was going to be late. He should have left earlier. But he had no choice. It wasn't down to him. It had depended on when filming was completed. As the car pulled up outside the hotel he called "thank you" to the chauffeur and ran past the startled receptionist, down the corridor, calling out "Would you please call me a taxi for twenty minutes, please." Thank heaven he had a ground floor room. He only had time for a quick shower and a change of clothes. The shower wasn't optional. He dare not arrive unclean. But he didn't have time to clean himself out. He had to take a chance. But he had taken precautions and had nothing but liquids all day. So he should be safe. He hoped so.
He had changed trains, with a sprint between, to catch the second to get to his destination. His appointment time was 6.30. It was just after 6.20 when the train pulled in. Shouting, "Excuse me! Excuse me!" he fought his way through the throng of commuters. Angry responses rippled from all around as he shouldered people from his path. He headed for the disabled exit because it got him past the queue. A guard tried to stop him but he sidestepped him, slapping his credit card on the screen.
It seemed an age before the gates opened. He was through and taking the steps two at a time to get out and on to Avenue Road. He had memorised the directions and began to run. Not a good idea at his age. His running days were long gone.
He looked at his watch again. Four minutes. That's what he called a challenge. Every ten yards there seemed to be someone deliberately barring his way. He began running on the road, his chest heaving and his heart threatening to burst. Cars flashed their headlights, blasted their horns, and swerved round him. He didn't care. He could not be late. He rounded the corner and checked the number on the house. He hung on the wall outside trying to pull vital air into his lungs.
He glanced around at the ordinary suburban street of larger terraced houses. Who would think a dominatrix worked in this area? He took a few more seconds in a vain attempt to regain his breath and allow his out of condition body to recover. He looked at his watch. 6.28.
The dungeon was in the basement. He stumbled down the stone steps in the darkness, somehow getting to the bottom without falling. Why had lighting not been installed? He stood in front of the door. The door she had described in their emails. The forbidding black door that led to hell. Or heaven. Depending on where you wanted to be. He had to send the message to say he had arrived. His fingers wouldn't work. He took a deep breath and forced himself to type the four letters on to the keypad. H...E...R...E. Tapped send and looked at the time. 6.29.
The door opened and there stood Mistress Dominica. He couldn't help but stare. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders; full red lips so inviting; the hint of danger shining from her bright brown eyes. She had the kind of beauty that made you look twice. She could be the young lady waiting in the queue at the supermarket or the receptionist at your doctors. The kind of loveliness that begged for a second, and third, furtive look. Except that the lady in the supermarket wouldn't be wearing a skin tight sleeveless latex leotard. The black and red was split by a zip, open to show the top of breasts that yearned to be worshipped. He wanted to fall to his knees and kiss her feet.
"Good evening, William," she said, and with a gesture invited him to step inside. "Please remove your shoes before entering the dungeon." With that she left him alone in the hallway.
He was confused by her accent. He hadn't expected her to be Eastern European. He had expected her to be English. Not that it was a problem. She had only spoken a few words but he was already entranced by her voice, not just her beauty. He did as she had instructed and then followed her through the door into what was, although not the largest, the best equipped dungeon he had been inside.
Mistress Dominica was standing beside the puppy cage looking relaxed and casual and completely at home. Which was natural. A dungeon was her domain. He stood before her, fully dressed but in stockinged feet, feeling slightly ridiculous. She was drinking from a large wine glass that contained what looked like water. There was another glass beside her that looked as if it also contained water.
"Would you like a drink of water, William?"
"Yes please, Mistress," he said, eyeing her glass.
She noticed his glance, smiled, and said, "have a sip of mine," holding her glass to his lips.
He took a sip and realised it was not water.
She laughed at his grimace. "It's gin and soda. Not a very strong gin and soda but better than water."
"Now, William," she started, her voice becoming more serious, "when you contacted me you said that you liked being fucked?"
"Yes, Mistress," he said, "more than anything else. I don't just like it. I love it. Any position. I'm open to anything."
"Anything? Hmm...that sounds like a challenge, William. You also have a glove fetish?" she said, picking up a latex glove. She slid it onto her right hand, squeezing her fingers all the way in, before pulling it up to her elbow then extended her arm towards him. "Stroke my arm, William. Feel the texture of the latex."
He hesitantly touched her arm, running his fingers from wrist to elbow, smoothing the latex with his palm.
"Taste me."
He took hold of her hand, his thumbs on her palm and his fingers gently pressing on her wrist.
"Finger by finger."
His lips opened and slid over and down her little finger, savouring the taste and feel of the latex on his tongue. One by one he moved across her hand, feeling the knuckle and the nail on each finger.
She gently removed the last finger from his mouth. "Remove your clothes and use the hangers over there, then assume the position facing that chair," she said, pointing to the leather chair by the door. She walked out without looking back, closing the door behind her as she left.
He stripped quickly, hanging up his clothes, and knelt in front of the chair. Knees slightly apart. Feet together. Resting on his ankles. Head bowed as low as he could go. Hands clasped in front of him. Eyes closed. She had been very explicit as to the submissive position she expected.
He began counting the seconds but quickly lost track as his mind began to wander. Suddenly he realised the door had opened as he heard her heels click on the polished hardwood floor before she stepped onto the rubberised flooring covering half the dungeon floor. He heard the squeak of the leather as she sat down in front of him on the leather chair.
"Open your eyes and lift your head, William. Keep your back bent." The friendly young lady had gone. Her alter ego had appeared.
A smile appeared along with a silent "thank you." He opened his eyes and just an inch away was the toe of her right shoe. He knew what was required, but he waited for permission.
"Now, William."
He moved his head forward until his cheek was resting on the black leather and began licking, enjoying the sensations in his mind.
"Heel."
He closed his mouth around the spike of her stiletto and sucked it with the same enthusiasm women had shown when they had been gratifying him.
"Look at me William." Her gentle voice brought him back to reality as she eased her heel from his mouth. His eyes took in the shape of her legs, one crossed over the other, stiletto heel swinging as she dangled the shoe from her toes. She uncrossed her legs, allowing him to see the shiny latex hiding her sex, the texture of the latex matching the smoothness of her skin. She was beautiful.
He looked up at her full red lips with the desire to touch them with his own and accept the consequences. A figure with curves in all the right places that knew how to move to make a man want to obey. Need to obey.
