The Angry Mistress

"The Angry Mistress"

A sequel to "A Soldier's Diary."

This is a sequel to my story from a few years back, "A Soldier's Diary." A tale about Elizabeth, a female dominant, and her subservient lover Elliot, a submissive masochist who loves punishment and pain, humiliation, and whipping, a cuckold who drinks his mistress's pee and loves the body odor of a woman.

For those of you who read "A Soldier's Diary." You may recall that Elliot was a retired American soldier, in his forties who returned to West Berlin in 1966, looking for Elizabeth, the Dominatrix he had met and lived with when he was a young soldier, stationed in the divided city, 16 years earlier.

In the first story, Elliot found Elizabeth sitting in the same bar where they had met years ago, and she agreed to move in with him. Our story continues with them leaving the bar together.

"THE ANGRY MISTRESS"

The barmaid Inga grunted, without looking up from the paper she was reading and pointed at the door.

Elizabeth pushed Elliot's shoulder. "Stand up. He's here."

Elliot nodded toward his wallet on the table, "Will you carry it?"

"Ja, of course," she answered, taking his wallet and putting it in her pocketbook. "On the way, we will stop at my apartment. Some things I need." She gave him a sad look. "Oh, poor Elliot!" she said, patting his cheek, giving him a fake smile. "You have a hard night ahead of you." She stood up and reached for her jacket, her eyes on his as she handed it to him. "You caused me a lot of pain, and tonight you will pay for that," she said.

Elliot let his head hang. He whispered, "You know I am sorry, Liz. I never meant to hurt you."

Liz smiled at him. "Maybe...but you did."

When they stepped out of the bar, Liz felt the cold air and shivered. She pulled Elliot close. "I hate the fucking cold!" she said, spitting her words as she nodded at the taxi parked at the curb. "Tell him the address, and scoot over." Liz bent down and leaned her head in the taxi window. "Wie gehts Dieter," she winked at him. Liz knew many of the taxi drivers, especially those who worked nights, but she knew Dieter better. She knew he lived in Spandau, had a wife and three children, loved football, and lost his toes somewhere on the Russian front in the war, but most importantly, she knew that when she was alone in the taxi, he'd let her pay the fare with oral sex.

Once seated, Liz leaned forward and touched Dieter on his shoulder. "Stop at my place for a minute," she said, then turned to Elliot, touching the front of his pants. "Take it out," she whispered, mouthing the words.

She watched as he opened his pants and worked his cock free, stroking the flaccid member. Liz took his cock in her hand, gently toying with it. She leaned closer to him pinching and twisting his cock head. "You're soft," she said, her mouth touching his cheek. "The whip will change that," she whispered as she bit his ear.

Elliot twisted his body and reached over pushing her jacket off her left shoulder. He put his mouth to her bare shoulder, licking it. "May I?" he asked, reaching his hand across and sliding it into the open underarm of her dress. Liz moved her arm back and twisted her shoulder down allowing his hand to cup her sagging breast. He gently lifted the breast out so it hung exposed from the open under arm of her dress. He took her nipple between his fingers and pinched it hard.

"Ah," she moaned, showing her teeth. "I remember, you like to hurt my nipples."

"I like to chew on them..."

"Hmm, yes. I used to let you do that." She tilted her head. "I like nipple pain...I feel it in my cunt." she laughed, shaking her head. "But not tonight." She leaned her head close to his. "I'm going to punish you." She put her lips on his, "and I think maybe that's what the little slut came back for." She looked up and saw Dieter watching her in the rearview mirror and stuck her tongue out and winked at him.

Elliot put his hand on hers, pressing it down on his cock. "I missed you. You're the only woman I've ever loved."

Liz smiled and made eye contact with him. "Hmm, that sounds nice, but I think you missed being whipped by a naked woman," she said, digging her fingernails into his cock head.

"Agh." He leaned back, closing his eyes, groaning. "I do want that. I love it when you hurt me."

Liz stared at him for a moment, her piercing grey-blue eyes holding him fast. She wasn't smiling. "We'll see how much you like it," she said, biting her lower lip, "when you are on your knees, begging me to stop!" Liz knew the dire threat of a whipping was more pleasurable for Elliot than the actual pain of the whip, but she understood, he needed to experience some pain if her threats were to have any meaning to him.

Elliot closed his eyes, sucking in his breath. "I dream about you naked, with a whip in your hands," he whispered. "It's been so long."

She turned to him; her lip curled. "Yes, we will do that tonight," she grinned.

He bent down, putting his face to her sagging breast, rubbing his mouth against her nipple. "I'm so afraid of you," he said looking up.

"Shh, Junge!" she said glancing toward the driver. "You have good reason to be afraid of me." she laughed and slid her dress up, opening her legs. "Feel me! I'm soaking wet thinking about whipping you!" She pulled his hand between her legs and held it there. She could feel his fingers working her panties aside, then shuddered as she felt his finger slide inside of her. She laid her head back, closed her eyes, and sucked air in through her teeth. "Uhh, yes do that!" she groaned. Remembering his passion for body odor, especially her sweaty armpits and feet as well as her vagina. "Smell your fingers," she said, "I'm filthy!" Elizabeth knew nothing about pheromones, but she knew Elliot loved the musky odor of her unwashed body, so much so, that he used to beg her not to bathe before sex. Elliot would say she was deliciously ripe and bury his face between her legs, using his tongue with a fervor she hadn't expected. It was as if the natural earthy scent and taste of a woman's body were an aphrodisiac.

She watched as he put his fingers to his nose, smelling her scent, licking his fingers like a child licks an ice cream cone. She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "I smell like a street whore. Is that something the little slut still likes?" she asked, giving him a mock frown. She pushed him back then leaned her head down and took his cock in her mouth, moving her head up and down, sucking him then biting down hard, grinding her teeth into his cock.

"Ahhh," he moaned, touching her head. "You know I want that," he whispered, sucking in his breath. He was afraid of Elizabeth, and his fear of her was why he came back to Berlin. He reveled in standing naked before a woman with a whip in her hand. He loved the feeling of being helpless, begging for her mercy and Elizabeth was the consummate Mistress, a sadistic chastiser, who used a whip like a concert violinist uses her bow.

"Umm, do you?" she asked with a grin. "We'll see." Liz turned and without making eye contact, she handed him her purse mouthing the words, "Light me a cigarette?"

Elliot nodded and opened her purse. He found a small box with 5 cigarettes in it and lit one of them, then touched her hand for her to take it.

She nodded toward the driver. "Ask Dieter if he wants a cigarette."

But before Elliot could speak, the driver waved his hand. "No no," he said, answering in English.

Without looking at Elliot, she nodded a thank you and put the cigarette to her lips. She inhaled and playfully blew the smoke in his face, then laid her head back and closed her eyes. She took one more puff until the cigarette tip glowed red. "There is something I want to do," she said without looking at him. Liz reached her hand out and rested it on his lap with the tip of the cigarette almost touching his cock.

Elliot grabbed her hand, roughly pulling it away. "Oh, no! Don't!"

Liz sat up and turned, facing him. "You stupid bastard!" she said, pulling her hand back. She put the cigarette in her mouth, and slapped him in the face with the back of her hand. "Don't you ever!" She leaned close. "If you ever put your hands on me like that again, you will spend the night hanging by your balls? She pointed at his cock. "I own that! Hold it up and ask me for it," she said.

Elliot let his head hang down. He was holding his face in his hands. "Please don't, Liz. I can't," he whispered in a whining tone. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid."

When Liz saw the driver shift his head so he could see them in the mirror, she spit at his cock and took another puff of the cigarette, then lifted her breast back into her dress and shifted her body away from him. She opened the window and threw the cigarette out. "I'm getting out at my apartment. If you are such a coward, I can't live with you," she said, turning away from him.

Elliot groaned and slid closer, twisting his body so he was almost kneeling on the floor of the car. He slid her dress up, and buried his face on her bare thighs, licking her. "I will Liz! I'll let you do it. Please, Liz, don't leave me," he whimpered.

"You want me to live with you," she growled, leaning down, her mouth over his head. "If you want me to stay with you, you must do as you are told! Do you understand?" she asked, rubbing the back of his head. She put her fingers to his chin and lifted his head, then slapped his face hard. "Elliot, you do not have the right to stop me from hurting you! I own you," she said in a soft tone of voice.

She wouldn't have touched his cock with the cigarette, not unless he asked her to. Elizabeth had touched a lit cigarette to the cock of more than a few of her more masochistic clients but they had asked for it and she knew it was likely that one day Elliot would ask for it.

"I'm sorry Liz. It won't happen again," he whispered. "I belong to you."

"Yes, you must remember that!" she said pulling her dress back and lifting it, spreading her legs, she pushed his face down, then covered his head with her dress. She could feel his tongue licking her thighs and could hear him whispering, "Please don't leave me."

"We'll see!" she said, patting his head, but to herself, she thought,

'No, I'm not going to leave you...I need you.' Elizabeth wasn't concerned about the insecurity of her own welfare, but she was suddenly faced with a new issue. A few weeks earlier, the only family Liz had, her mother and sister, escaped from behind the wall in East Berlin and were given asylum in a refugee camp in the Marienfelde section of West Berlin. Liz hadn't seen them since the Berlin wall went up in 1961 and she knew the West German government would soon move them out of the refugee camp. They would be resettled somewhere in West Germany unless they could show they had the financial means to find housing in West Berlin.

Liz heard him sobbing, "I'm sorry. I will Liz...I want to."

"Be quiet! she whispered, slapping him on the top of his head. "We'll discuss this at home! I'm not leaving you."

A few minutes later, the car slowed and stopped at Liz's address. Liz lifted her dress and looked down at him. "We're here. Sit up," she said.

When she came out 20 minutes later, she was wearing high-heeled boots, a short black leather skirt, and a black leather jacket that was open so Elliot and the driver could see her bare breasts swaying as she walked through the brightness of the headlights. Over her shoulder, she had an overnight bag, and in her hand, she carried a riding crop that she called Anthony's Mom.

Years ago, Liz had lived with a submissive Brit named Anthony, and the riding crop was his. She would make Anthony stand in front of her and jerk off and when he came on the floor, she would whip his bare behind with the riding crop until he got down on his knees and licked up his cum.

Anthony told Liz, that the riding crop had belonged to his late mother. Once a month, she would make Anthony and his father undress and bend over the kitchen table for a beating. Anthony explained, "My Mum believed we men need to be whipped. She said it was therapeutic...Good for us. A good whipping helps us overcome our feelings of guilt and shame," he nodded, "You know...from all the filthy impure thoughts we have." he said. And that was how the riding crop got its name.

When Anthony was drinking, he would claim to be a spy for the Brits, not that Liz cared. Then one day without warning, he packed up and left, and Liz thought most likely back to his wife and family, but he left his mom's riding crop behind.

Liz winked at the driver as she got in, and he said something in German that Elliot missed.

When Elliot asked Liz what the driver said, she laughed and told him, "He asked me if he could watch."

When the taxi slowed and parked in front of the large apartment building on Uhland Strasse, Liz glanced at the meter and saw it wasn't turned on. She took money from Elliot's wallet and handed the driver 20 Deutsche Marks, double what the trip should have cost. She patted his hand. "That's good," she whispered.

Elliot started to straighten up and was pushing his erect cock back into his pants when Liz touched his cock with the whip. "No, no, no," she said, shaking her head. "Give me the key."

The entranceway in front of the large apartment was dark and deserted, with just a dimly lit bulb over the doorway. She unlocked the heavy entrance door and spoke over her shoulder to him as they stepped inside. "Take off all of your clothes."

Elliot looked at her, shaking his head. "But Liz, I c-c-can't do that," he stuttered, and she turned and swung the whip down, hitting his exposed cock.

"Oh God," he cried out, bending over, holding his cock, moaning. "Oh...Oh."

She held the whip up and looked at him. "Now, can you?" she asked.

"Agh. Yes, Miss," he answered. He quickly removed his shoes, opened his belt and slid his pants and underpants down, then stepped out of them.

As she stood waiting in front of the elevator. "Put your shoes back on. Come come! Now take off your jacket and shirt," she said. "They hang down, covering your cock. I won't allow that."

"Yes, Miss," he nodded, opening his shirt.

"I'll carry your clothes," she said, taking his pants and jacket in her arms.

.

As they waited, Liz saw the downlight on the elevator was lit. "It's coming," she said.

Elliot could see through the glass doors, that there were two people in the elevator as it came down. "Oh God, they'll see me," he said.

"Yes, they will," she said.

When the elevator door opened, two women stepped out and Elliot recognized them. He had met them a few times coming in and out of the building but didn't know their names. He whispered a subdued, "Guten Abend," to the ladies as he stepped behind Liz, and crouched with his head hanging down.

The ladies nodded but didn't notice that Elliot was naked as he hid cringing behind Liz, but they did see Elizabeth in high-heeled boots, her open leather jacket and partially exposed breasts, and the riding crop in her hand.

When one of the two saw that Elliot was naked and using his hands to cover his privates, she turned to her friend, "Oh, I think Herr Martin has been misbehaving," she said, speaking in English. "I should get a whip for Hans. He needs a good beating," she added, laughing. As they turned to walk away, the taller of the two women looked back and shook her finger at him. "Herr Martin, next time, you do as you are told!" she said laughing.

"How does she know my name," he whispered to Liz as they entered the elevator.

"Oh, they are quite interested in the handsome American living in their building," she said, "and your name is on the doorbell to your apartment. I'm sure they made a point of knowing."

THE APARTMENT

Liz twisted the key in the door and Elliot pushed it open and stepped into the apartment. He reached for the light and held the door open for her.

Liz looked around as she stepped in, dropping his clothes on a chair. "Hang them up and take your shoes off! You look stupid...naked with socks and shoes on!"

She put her overnight bag on a large four-legged wooden table in the center of the room, then tapped the tabletop with her whip. "Umm, nice. I'll tie you on here for your whippings!" she said, smiling at him. Her cold grey-blue eyes held Elliot fast as she allowed her leather jacket to slip off her shoulders and fall to the floor. She stood there facing him, her shoulders squared, hands on her hips, her breasts swaying, as she moved. Liz was a tall woman in her late forties, a mature handsome woman with high cheekbones, a flawless complexion, and a charming demeanor, that belied her sadistic nature. She had a soft mouth with full red lips and when she was angry, her lip curled up in a malicious smile that would have her submissive clients on their knees, cringing in fear of her.

Elliot stood there staring at her, his mouth open, mesmerized by the sight of her.

"And the shoes," she said, swinging the whip hard against his bare ass.

"Agh. God," he screamed.

"I'm waiting!" she said, shaking her head, and pointing at his shoes.

"Yes, Miss. May I?" he asked, rubbing his ass cheek. He pointed to the chair.

Liz nodded with a sneer. "Do it!"

He quickly sat and took off his shoes and socks and when he stood up, Elizabeth stepped close to him. She lifted one arm over her head and put her face to her armpit, smelling herself. "God, I'm ripe," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Smell me."

Elliot leaned close and crouched down, putting his face to her underarm, and rubbing his nose into her moist armpit. The strong odor wafting from her body sent tremors of pleasure coursing through his body.

"I love the way you smell," he panted, licking her, gently sucking on her soft moist flesh. "Thank you," he whispered.

She put her hand on his chest and pinched his nipple, twisting it hard, digging her fingernails into it. "The clothes Elliot! And my jacket...Hang them in the closet!" she rasped.

"Oww," he whispered, hunching his shoulders, twisting, trying to pull away from her. "Please, Miss."

"Oh, that hurts the little slut," she smiled, tilting her head. "You know you're not allowed to pull away from me. I have a cure for that in my bag. Sharp alligator clips for your tits," she said biting her lower lip. She smiled, "Umm. You can wear them under your bra...when I dress you like a woman," she grinned. "And with makeup." Her eyes lit up and she smiled, "You know...for when I take you out shopping for your panties."

"Oh, God, Liz...Please don't..." he said, putting his hands to his face as she turned and walked toward the window.

"And if my clothes are not hung up properly," she said, speaking to him over her shoulder, "you will sleep in the closet tonight."

Liz stepped over to a door and pulled the drapes aside. "Umm," she said as she put her hand on the doorknob, "a balcony. How nice."

She flipped a light switch and stepped out onto the balcony with her bare breasts swaying. She leaned over and looked down into the windows of the building across the narrow street. She was looking at another couple in their kitchen when Elliot returned to the room and saw Liz on the balcony with her breasts exposed.

"Ahh, you can see into your neighbor's apartment," she said, "and they can see us."

He reached for her arm. "Liz, you can't!" he cried. "The neighbors will see you."

She pushed him back "Yes, they will," she nodded, as she reached down and took his hard cock in her hand, squeezing it. She dug her fingernails into his cock flesh and pulled up hard, hurting him, making him stand on his toes. She slapped his ass with the crop. "And on sunny afternoons I will take you out here, naked for your whipping," she laughed, "and then they will see you on your knees begging," she added with a smile.