Slut interview [A cautionary tale]
Part 3 of a 3-part story of one sub's struggles to find a Dom
Part 1 - initial online contact
Part 2 - remote control games and edging
Part 3 - first meet (rough sex and degradation)
Also available as Audio
[CW: Anonymous rough sex and degradation, crawling, foot licking, name calling, choking, unnecessary risk taking]
My heart was racing as I sailed on my second extreme adrenaline high in as many days. I stood listening out for footsteps, but they were muffled by the soft carpet of the landing. I saw a tall shape approaching in the dark. He hesitated and our eyes met in the gloom.
"Hi," I murmured quietly.
"Follow me," he said with just a hint of an accent. He put a hand on the small of my back and guided me through the silent building. The place was a maze. Even if I had had the precise room number, I would never have found it with the multiple twists and turns we took through the old building. Finally we approached a lit door frame. He led me through it and turned me directly around the corner into a darkened bedroom.
I stopped in the door frame and dropped my handbag to the floor. He moved around in front of me, taking in my appearance, but remaining silent. He slowly started to unbutton my coat until it fell open. I shrugged it off my shoulders, letting it pool on the floor behind me and clasping my wrists behind my back. I lingered for a moment, so he could take me in.
He steered me to a carefully placed cushion on the floor, right in front of a small two seater couch. "Down, slave," he murmured quietly.
I dropped to my knees onto the cushion and he brought his fully dressed body right up against my naked one. He grabbed my hair and pushed my face against the bulge in his jeans. "I want you to touch yourself for me," he murmured, a little louder now.
My fingers found my pussy, scooping up some slippery wetness before running over my clit once more. I should have been primed to come, but I was a little numb from all the stroking I had done all evening. Nevertheless I started circling and flicking, while he rubbed my face into his crotch. Submission hit me hard, in the way it often does. Like a hungry cat, I rubbed my cheeks against his bulge, making soft animal noises as I did so. I was giving myself to him, letting him own me, if only for that precise moment.
He pulled my face back by my hair and let his hand connect my cheek in a light slap. "You're such a dirty slut!"
"Yes, master," I gasped, relishing the feeling his slap and his words triggered, as I knelt there like a feral beast, rubbing my cunt for a stranger.
He pushed me back, leaving me there, while he sat down on the sofa in front of me. "Make yourself cum!" he ordered curtly.
I'd been so close all night, but now I wasn't even sure I'd be able to cum for him. Now that he had withdrawn his body, I sensed the unfamiliarity, the distance between us. I needed to have his voice take me in a grapple hold and he could have tipped me easily. But I was alone out there on the carpeted floor, my splayed kneeling legs in discomfort, my fingers rubbing frantically.
He stretched one of his long legs out in front of him, still wearing socks and brought it right up into my face. I leant my hot face into it, perversely gaining comfort from an act that should have spelled utter humiliation. His toes curled into my soft cheek and I moaned into his foot. He reached across and pulled off his sock, before curling his big toe once more. I instinctively drew it into my mouth, suckling on it like a filthy comforter.
I closed my eyes and focussed on the growing ache in my core. Anything. Anything to direct my mind away from the performance pressure that I felt and back into the experience. I suckled hard on his toe, drawing deep on my devotion and my feral nature to steer towards orgasm. I knew he was watching me in the gloom, but I needed to close my eyes now, as I focussed on the growing pressure in my belly. Arousal built right to the edge and stubbornly hovered there, as wet sounds and the smell of cunt started to penetrate the room. Faster I went, and faster still. The time for skillfulness was over and I frigged myself harshly for him until I pushed myself over the edge, groaning deeply, coming on my fingers, my body shaking, my legs folding under me, while I steadied myself on his foot.
Almost as soon as I'd come, he pulled his foot away and grabbed me by the back of my neck to push my face into the floor. I collapsed downwards easily, my breath still ragged from my climax. "Arse in the air," he ordered gruffly, as he pushed my face up against one of his feet. I gasped but obeyed. Even in my post orgasmic haze, I understood instantly what he wanted. I brought out my tongue and licked his foot, freely and without disgust, even as he rested his other leg on my arse like on a footstool. I'd dropped deep into submission, beyond judgement, my body shaking, just a bundle of sensations to serve another, to serve pleasure.
I have no idea how long I spent like this before he pulled his foot away and stood up without warning. "You didn't bring condoms then," he stated.
"Yes, yes, I did. In my bag," I mumbled, a little dizzy and disorientated. I heard him rummage, while I stayed down in the pose he had put me in. I listened to him opening his belt buckle and pulling his pants down, before sitting down again and rolling a condom over his cock. "Come here," he murmured. "Suck my dick."
I was taken back for a moment. In all my years as a swinger, nobody had ever actually requested having their cock sucked with a condom on. Clearly, I had to respect his preference and need for safety, but some part of me was feeling weirdly offended. I slid my mouth down on his plasticky cock, loathing both the sensation and the taste. Nevertheless, I did what I could to let his big meaty cock slide as deeply down my throat as I could. After no more than a couple of strokes he stood up, holding my head by my hair, so I had no choice but to follow. I let him push deep, the slidy plastic making it easier for him to lodge himself deep in my throat. In our conversations, he had said that he liked messy, so I let his cock play deep in my throat until I came up for air, spitting the thick drool all over him.
Yet somehow he didn't seem interested in pursuing this, moving on to yet another position. "Lean on the couch," he ordered, "ass in the air."
