Outraned

Some part of his mind wondered what had brought him to this place. His exact predicament was at once easy and difficult to describe. His face was currently buried between the thighs of one of his junior officers while he lapped desperately at her dripping sex. Beyond that, he would be hard pressed to say where he was. His mind had long since disappeared, lost in the sensual bliss that submission always brought him. And though the press of the soft flesh of womanly legs prevented him from stopping to take a breath, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Only a half an hour ago he'd been pouring over some reports in the comfort of his room when an unexpected knock tore him from his concentration. A sideways glance informed him of the time. 22:30. Who would be at his door at this time of night? He rolled his shoulders, then stood and crossed the room to answer the door. On the other side of the door was a rather short woman with her hair pulled back in a military approved hairstyle. Her figure was at once petite and full, even through the unflattering material of their daily uniform. He opened his mouth to ask what she needed, but before a word escaped, she had sauntered past him and taken a seat on his desk.

"Close the door, Michael."

It took him a moment to realize that bewilderment had left his mouth hanging open in question. Even so, he found himself doing as she asked. He vaguely recognized her. One of the new officers, and certainly not someone ranked high enough to call him by his first name without permission.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

She ignored him for a moment, studying her nails carefully before raising dark chocolate eyes to meet his.

"It's more about what I can do to help you, Michael. You see, you've been observed."

Observed doing what, he wondered. He had done nothing to break the rules, he was more than sure of it. It was one of his strongest principles.

"I can see by that hopelessly idiotic expression on your face that you're confused. Why don't you get comfortable while I explain."

Unsure of how to handle the situation, he decided to hear the woman out. He took a step towards an open chair, but stopped abruptly by the bark of a command.

"Not there! Kneel here. At my feet."

A part of him accepted the command immediately, but before he could obey, the rational part of him whispered logic.

"I don't know who you are, ma'am, but I suggest you leave. This is not proper behavior and I think it would be in your best interest to end this before I--"

She chuckled, dismissing his threat before he could even utter it.

"Don't bother. Unless, of course, you want everyone to know about the real you."

That stopped him. What could she mean? A blurred understanding began to appear in the back of his mind, but he was still largely confused.

"Don't play the innocent, boy. You think no one notices when your little prick gets hard when one of the COs is bossing you around? Do you really think you're such a great actor that no one could tell you get turned on when you're being yelled at?"

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but yet again found himself silenced by the strength in the woman's voice.

"You thought no one would notice all the pervy things you look up on your computer?"

His eyes flicked to the computer that sat as a silent traitor on his desk, betraying him before he could deny her accusations. The woman reached casually into a pocket and pulled out several pictures, clearly screen shots from his more risque web adventures. The theme was easily apparent. Men on their knees, servicing women with complete and utter abandon.

"So, I say again, boy. Kneel here."

There seemed to be a distant buzzing in his head that grew louder and more insistent and prevented him from thinking of a way out of the situation. Defeated, he slowly approached her and lowered himself to his knees.

"Good boy. See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Silently, the man nodded and quietly fretted what she would do with the information she held in her hands.

"Now, if you do as I ask, always, then your secret is safe with me and those I hold in my confidence."

Michael's head jerked up and words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"But you can't --"

A slap rang out in the silence.

"I did not yet give you permission to speak in my presence. Do not interrupt me again, you useless worm. Do you understand me?"

Again, he opened his mouth, but a warning and derisive glance from the woman closed it again. He nodded.

"Good boy. You learn quickly. I appreciate that. As I was saying, if you are good, I will not out you. From this moment on, you are mine. You will do as I say, when I say it and you will do so gladly, understood?"

Another nod.

"I will explain my expectations in further detail later, for now, I will give you the privilege of serving me. You cannot imagine how long I have been waiting for this moment. My panties are nearly drenched as it is. I'll make you pay for that inconvenience later."

The woman stood and walked over to him bed, swaying her hips as seductively as possible as she went. When she reached it, she spun and crooked a finger in his direction. Michael began to stand, but stopped when he saw her disapproving look. The woman pointed towards the ground. Confused, he hesitated.

"Crawl like the dog you are."

He swallowed, then fell on all fours and began to make his way towards her. It wasn't until he'd shifted position that he realized how aroused he actually was. His mind had been so caught up in the tsunami of her presence that he had lost sight of all things else. And now, she was going to let him please her. Perhaps their meeting wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Remove my pants."

He sat up and raised trembling hands to the waistline of her pants, careful not to be too rough when loosening them and pulling them down. As the fabric fell, it revealed strong, smooth thighs, a beautifully rounded derriere and gently defined calves. The were the legs of dreams. What drew his attention, however, was the modestly seductive pair of panties that were now at eye level. A purple confection made of lace and silk that hid nothing but the very center of her sex, stained a darker shade as a result of her arousal. The scent of sexual excitement tickled his nostrils and sent a pang of lust straight to his groin. He didn't know if he would last to see was was beneath.

Knowing where he hoped this process would lead, he reached up to run his fingers gently over the hem of her panties. He heard the sharp intake of breath and felt her body tremble slightly at his touch.

She slapped him again.

"I did not tell you to touch anything else. Look at you, you disgusting slut. So horny you can't even act like a decent human being. Now you're going to have to prove yourself to me before I let you go any further."

She sat upon his bed and crossed one supple leg over the other, letting a foot dangle elegantly before Michael's face.

"Ever heard of foot worship? Who am I kidding. Of course you have, filthy pervert. Since that is the case, proceed, but don't be disgusting about it."

He studied her foot for a moment as a flicker of revulsion rolled through him. He couldn't lick her feet. That was gross.

When he failed to move on her order, the woman lifted her foot gently and placed it on his chest. Then, with one hard thrust, she shoved him on his back. He fell in a tangle of limbs and lay sprawled on the floor. He looked up to see her face curled in disgust.

"Was there something unclear about my command, boy?"

His lips parted to respond, but were met instead with the sole of her foot. She pressed into his face and sneered.

"When I say something, you do it, slave. There will be no hesitation. So when I tell you to lick my foot, you'd better do it like the scum you are. I don't care what you think about it. Is that understood?"

He could neither speak, nor nod, so he simply continued to lay there in silence until she removed herself from him. He heard her return to her seat on the bed, but he quickly forgot her movements, and everything else, when he felt what must have been her foot pressing against his erection. In slow, steady waves, she began to roll her foot, massaging and teasing it. As she worked, she spoke, though it took an act of incredible strength to hear her words over the roar of his arousal.

"You will obey me in all things. My word is not only your law, but your will. Your life is now mine. Your existence is now mine. I own you. Say it to me."

Michael had lost focus halfway through and was simply moaning and grinding his hips against her foot. He was so close. So close to bliss and ecstasy. The reality of the fact that he was living his fantasy combined with the steady provocation of his sex was so overwhelming that he knew he would lose it with only a little more stimulation.

Suddenly, it stopped.

Almost in a daze, he waited for her next command. Several moments of silence passed, and it did not come. He opened his eyes and glanced around, even daring to sit up, but the bite of her voice did not meet his ears. It wasn't until he turned that he realized she was by the door, putting her pants back on.

"Where are you going?" It was supposed to be a demand, or even a question,but in the presence of this woman, it came out as a weak plea. He didn't want it to end. He was so hard and so aroused and had been on the verge of getting to taste her, yet she was about to leave.

She glanced over her shoulder, emotionless, and studied him.

"If you will not behave as I command, then I have no use for you."

She slid her other leg into her pants and began to fasten them. Startled by the thought that she might leave, the danger to his reputation and position forgotten, he crawled toward her.

"Please don't leave. Mistress, please."

She paused at that and turned towards him, arms crossed and expression cold. She said nothing.

Michael stopped, suddenly unaware of what to say to convince her. Instead of speaking, he leaned forward and gently licked her shoe.

"I...I wish to serve you, Mistress. Please do not leave."

He kept his eyes trained on her feet, waiting for her response.

"Are you certain this is what you want? I will not tolerate rebellion. I understand that you are new to this, so I will give you an opportunity to get out."

"I wish to serve you, Mistress. I am yours."

She said nothing for a full minute, enjoying his discomfort.

"Very well, pet. Strip."

As fast as he could manage, he removed his clothing, letting his pants and shirt fall where they may. As soon as he was naked, the returned to his position at his feet.

She strolled to his bed and reclaimed her seat, somehow making the neatly made cot seem like a throne. She again crossed one leg over the other, and observed his naked form.

"Stand before me and show yourself. Turn slowly."

He did as she commanded, this time complying immediately. His shoulders were hunched and he could not figure out where to rest his gaze, but he somehow managed to turn in a full circle.

"I suppose it will have to do," she said. "Though your dick is hardly worth mentioning. My vibrators are bigger than that. I've never used a man so poorly equipped. Perhaps I shall reject you after all."

Michael's head shot up, even as his erection regained its hardness at her insults. His eyes pleaded with her. She laughed.

"Oh well. I suppose someone must do something with such a useless thing as yourself. Now, kneel and worship my foot as you were meant to do. Do it well, and you will be rewarded with a taste of my pussy. Would you like that, pet?"

The naked man nodded enthusiastically, and with equal excitement, set about removing the woman's pants and shoes so that he could get to the soft skin beneath. He marveled yet again at the vision of womanhood that sat before him. His awe only motivated him to go about his service with wild abandon. This time, instead of disgust, his mind was set on his act of service, desperate to please his new mistress.

He sucked on each toe, wrapping his tongue around them one at a time before moving to the next. As his mouth worked, licking and kissing every bit of available skin, his hands began to knead and massage. His fingers brushed against her calves, eager to continue their path of discovery, then hesitated, waiting for her approval.

"Well done, pet. You may touch more."

And so he continued in this way. Touching and tasting his way up from her foot, to her calf until he reached the supple softness of her thigh. He could hear her heavy breaths and took pride in his work. With each stroke, his fingers moved closer to the purple treasure. He longed to taste her sweet nectar, but dared not risk angering her yet again.

Finally, she pushed him back and commanded him to lay on the floor. Unsure of her wishes, he followed orders. A few moments passed before the beautiful sight of her pussy hovered just above his face.

"Tell me, pet. Do you want to please your mistress?"

"Yes."

She slapped him.

"Try again, pet." She said.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Very good. You have pleased me with your offering of worship. So I will reward you with the task of bringing me to climax. Do not disappoint."

With that, she lowered her sweet rose onto his mouth, closing her thighs around his head and cutting him off, sight and senses all, from the world around him. Occasionally encouragement and insults reached his ear. The harder he worked, the more she rubbed her soaking sex across his face. His tongue snaked in and out of her core, sliding up to tickle her clit every now and again. Her fingers curled in his hair and pulled him into the V of her legs. Her pitch rose higher and higher. He could feel the lips of her sex trembling and new she was on the edge, and he suddenly realized that he was on the edge with her.

She rode his face with wild abandon until she exploded, slamming her pussy onto his face, her hips jerking and her body writhing as she came. It took her a while to get a hold of herself, and when she had, she slipped from his face and stood, looking down at him. It was not until this moment that he realized she too was naked. And her breasts were huge.

"You have done well for your mistress, pet."

Her eyes scanned his body, pleased with his level of fitness. Michael was so enthralled with the sight of her breasts, large, soft and inviting, that he nearly missed it when her look of approval changed as soon as her eyes landed on his erection.

"Look at that prick. Such a pitiful sight, even when you're completely turned on. Ugh. What should I do with that thing? I know. I wish for a show. I doubt you can get much out of that tiny cock, but I suppose you can try. Masturbate for me. Now."