I pulled on my hand brake and sat for a moment in my gleaming sales reps car. I had just put it through the car wash and as far as the office was concerned I was about to go into a meeting on the other side of the state, in truth I was intending on calling the client after and report back that I had been there in person. I would get away with it, I had done it before. Meanwhile, what I was really going to do that afternoon was spend an hour and a half with a professional dominatrix. I had been paying for these sessions for nearly six months now, once a month they worked out as being and I can't really explain why or what I got out of them other than saying I felt so good, so uncoupled from the normal binds of everyday life that it was worth every penny I had spent on her so far.
I got out of the car and looked at my watch. I was a couple of minutes early so I busied myself with brushing imaginary flecks of dust from my suit and trousers and transferring my briefcase from the back seat into the boot of my BMW. Not that it was the kind of neighbourhood where cars got broken into – not at all. In fact the quiet, leafy suburban Crescent was home to the nearly rich of the town and Julie (or Mistress Julie as I would have to call her once I stepped inside the detached house) was viewed as a good neighbour and a respected member of the community. She had two kids, both younger than ten and both at primary school, while her husband worked abroad and was away four months at a time in the Middle East. He didn't know about her little sideline and she was very circumspect in taking on clients so as to keep her cover well in place. I admired the way she organised everything and knew she enjoyed great success with her select band of clients.
I stooped and tightened my shoe laces and a quick glance at my wristwatch told me that I had passed enough time so I straightened up and strode purposefully through the black gate and along her deserted drive and round the corner to ring the musical doorbell. It chimed out a jaunty, Disney-like tune which, I reflected was well out of place considering what would be happening inside in just a few minutes. She kept me waiting a good minute before I saw her shadow loom up behind the frosted glass, I swallowed, suddenly nervous, and straightened my tie and stood straight so as not to offend her. She opened the door, her face not betraying my true reason for visiting and she stood back without comment to allow me admittance. I allowed myself a quick, appraising glance before stepping inside. She had long dark hair, was in her late thirties, had a friendly welcoming face with perfect teeth and intelligent eyes. She was not tall at around five foot five and had a very large bosom that seemed to give the impression she was over weight, I didn't think she was just that she had this tremendous, natural curviness and a great, rounded ass. As usual to admit me she was dressed conservatively (she really covered all the angles to ensure her secret was not discovered) of a tight, black jumper and black leggings above her slippers but there was never any hurry in our sessions and before long she would have changed into an altogether different outfit.
I was more than acquainted with the décor and layout of the small lobby that led into a perfectly square hall that then led into all the ground floor rooms, it was only once I was stood in that square and Julie had closed the door that she addressed me.
"Well have you got the payment?"
It was more a demand than a question, and I quickly complied. I folded out four hundred dollars and placed it in her outstretched, grasping hand. She stood and counted it, making sure it was all there, like I was ever going to short change her, that would have been dangerous. Once she finished counting she faced me and you would have been amazed in the severe look on her face compared to how she looked normally, she folded the notes up and pushed them into her jumper pocket and pointed to the walk in cupboard that disappeared under the hall staircase.
"Get in there and get undressed I'll just go and get changed, I'll be a few minutes. When you're done get into the living room, kneel before the television and play the DVD in the system. I want you to jack off to the action on screen, whatever it is and you will not, under any circumstances turn around until I enter the room and give you permission. Understand? And you do not cum until I say so!"
I knew better than to ask for the instructions to be repeated.
"Yes Mistress Julie."
I stepped into the large, dark cupboard and did what I was told, leaving my clothesin a neat pile in the darkness. When I stepped back into the cool, air conditioned hall I was sporting an incredible erection that was stretching the full length of my six inch cock. The blinds in the spacious and modern living room were drawn, ostensibly to keep the bright afternoon sun out rather than to prevent anyone seeing what perverted debauchery was occurring within. I walked across to the huge flat screen TV and switched it on then took the DVD remote that was set out and pressed play, holding my breath as to what would appear.
I was immediately confronted by the sight of two extremely well endowed black men fucking a white guy from both ends, obviously it was a hardcore gay porn DVD and as per the explicit instructions of my Mistress I gripped my dick and began to jerk it off.
Now this was uncomfortable and having experienced the twisted way that Mistress Julie's mind worked in I wondered what this would all lead to, but no matter I still tugged away at my stiff dick. Watching the action on screen was a pretty surreal experience. On one hand I had no desire to see a naked man sticking his cock in an other mans asshole and mouth, I wasn't a faggot, no way. But then I was under the spell of this dominant, demanding, sexy woman and I knew that I had paid her to make sure I enjoyed myself - and that meant maximum humiliation and embarrassment, the twin feelings that powered my sexual drive.
The action on screen was sweaty and extremely explicit and I concentrated on it knowing that I dare not look away and risk being discovered by the Mistress. I watched as the white guy was pounded in the ass and mouth, his two fuckers not really too bothered with whether he could take or handle them both or not. I felt my foreskin be stretched further as I slid my palm along it's slimy length and tried to think of what the Mistress would do to me and what she would look like rather than the gay action I was being forced to watch.
"Turn around worm!"
Even though I had been expecting her, her harsh voice still shocked me and I spun round guiltily and surprised. And what a sight awaited my eyes, the prim and slightly dowdy housewife was no more, in her place was a Goddess. Her long, dark hair had been pulled back severely into a fierce, straight ponytail, her lips painted an aggressive red. Her chest was covered (barely!) with a black leather corset that hardly stopped her breast flesh over spilling over the top. At her crotch were a sheer pair of plastic pants with a black, plastic cock jutting out from the front - I had seen, and felt, it before. Her legs, which had appeared short and nondescript, were absolutely magnificent, encased right up to her thighs in shiny, black leather boots with five inch heels.
It was only after I had fully appreciated her amazing appearance for a full minute or so before I really registered the hand held video camera she was pointing at me. Only then did it dawn on me - she had been recording me jacking off to gay porn and now held the evidence in my hand. She laughed nastily as she watched realisation dawn in my face.
"That's right bitch now I've got footage of just what a pathetic fag boy you are. So just you turn around and get back to wanking off, here's a ladle once you're ready I want you to cum in that, don't you dare spill a drop on my new carpet!"
Burning with shame but secretly relishing my degrading treatment I obeyed immediately, took the ladle and turned back to the sweaty men on the screen and speeded up my action on my straining cock. Mistress Julie meanwhile captured more incriminating footage. This wouldn't be the only stuff my Mistress had on me, from previous sessions she had pictures of me dressed in various sets of feminine underwear, frilly pink bras and panties; pictures of me with her lipstick written clear across my naked, shaved body saying stuff like "WIMP" , "BITCH" and "COCKSUCKER"; and footage of her fucking me with that self same strap on and me licking it .
Julie moved beside me and stood over me, goading me as I pumped away at my messy, hard cock. I was spasming and grunting and I could feel my sperm boil up in my balls. I somehow managed to lift up the ladle and hold in still while I milked a healthy load into it. This was standard practice for Mistress Julie, she liked me to cum nice and early in the session so that it was proper punishment for me, so that I gained only mental pleasure from my domination.
I stayed where I was recovering from my exertions, I was starting to get sore knees from kneeling in the same position for that length of time but that seemed to be of no interest to the Mistress, she just stood over me with a look on her face like the cat that had got the cream. When I finally managed to open my eyes and focus on her I watched her produce a number of small, corked test tubes from behind her back (in fact she had had them in the band of her plastic pants) and lean them against the bottom of the settee next to the TV. They were filled up to about half way with a grey creamy substance that I could hazard a guess as to what it was.
"In those are some samples of my other client's sperm that I have collected. I want you to open them up, carefully now you really don't want to stain my carpet with them worm, and pour them into that ladle. Let's have a nice mixture in there for you to drink, eh?"
I had guessed as much as soon as I had seen the tubes and set about my task with no great relish. A lot of Julie's domination was physical but she worked on the mental side too and ordering me to do this pretty gross task just after I had cum and was experiencing the feeling of guilt and that I shouldn't be doing this, was very demoralising and humiliating for me, especially after having jacked off to that gay porn. Like I said she was good at this, real good, I could hardly bring myself to look at the stuff as it slowly slid down the ends of the tubes and into the ladle, there wasn't tons of the stuff but enough that you knew it was there which was enough to nearly have me gagging. Once I had finished my task I held the ladle up, ready to get it over and done as quickly as possible when she stopped me and produced a drinking straw.
