Heeling Ben

i knew what this meant, making Ben hand over his prized Porsche to Wesley. It wasn't just a compromise, a peace making gesture, it was complete submission, an abject surrender. Wesley would go public with me. I would get dressed up sexily for him and he would promenade me locally, taking me to restaurants, clubs, theatres in the pride motor that my husband once drove. i knew how much that hurt. Ben loved that car, loved the sound that it made, the admiring glances that it drew. he loved the smell of the leather and the sleek trim. Now, yes, now, Wesley would feel me up in that car too and I would open my legs for his exploring fingers, aching, always aching for his black cock.

'Wesley wants the car' I said firmly, watching my husband play anxiously with the keys in his pocket. 'Either you hand it over or i have to put you out of the house'.

I know, that sounds brutal. But technically the house was mine. The deeds were mine, a chocolate box village property surrounded by manicured gardens which my husband tended carefully. He would still get to garden at the property. He would still be able to live in the shed which he optimistically called his studio. The brutal truth was that I was entirely addicted to black cock. Wesley owned me and had put me to so much black cock, his own and brothers, that my mind admitted no other possibility than to have it whenever possible. Ben had to hand over the Porsche or else walk down the road. He had to become Wesley's serf, his liegeman or else wander off some place else and pretend to another woman that at heart he wasn't a weakling.

'May be he could take you just on longer trips? Do you think he might buy that Annette?' Ben asked.

'You must never use my name. You're just a beta, remember?' I whispered back. Wesley had said that I should slap his face if he uttered 'Annette'. It was to be 'Miss' in public, a minor nod to shame management, and 'mistress' in the home. I knew that this was hard for Ben, it was terribly hard. I wanted him to stay and he had to learn. I liked watching him suck cock, i liked the absolute rule that I was required to administer.

Ben shook his head. he was stubborn. If he kept this up there would be so many hidings. So I slapped his face hard.

'Mistress!' i ordered brusquely.

He shuddered, as though he had hit the rocks on a storm shore.

'Mistress' he muttered irritably, and then, 'please would master limit using the Porsche, taking you to places further afield?'

I watched him. He was trembling. He knew full well that I could complain to Wesley. He knew what that would mean. In any case, the request was pointless wasn't it? Even if he had asked it on bended knees, before his new master, it would have been dismissed out of hand. Wesley owned me. He wasn't about to pretend otherwise. He owned us, well, unless of course Ben was about to run away now. This was the capitulation moment wasn't it? The Porsche was a fetish, his manhood on four sleek tyres.

'How many have you told that you've asked Wesley to own you?' I asked, slipping the conversation to a new direction. I couldn't soften. I couldn't admit to a niggling doubt about the anguish that i helped enforce. I must have black cock.

Ben stood silent. He was being obstinate. Better that i break him. better that I reduce him to his natural beta state. The other way, the Wesley way, would be infinitely rougher. Wesley was impatient and abrupt.

'Kneel and tell me' I ordered. I slipped my hand into my Gucci shoulder bag, the one that Ben had once given me on our wedding anniversary. I lifted out my phone. He knew what that meant. I might of course just film his subjugation, but I might call Wesley to say that the boy was proving awkward. What was terrible was that i knew Ben was a weakling. He instinctively needed to submit. That was why he didn't resist when Wesley first started dating me.

I watched him kneel and drop his head. He stared down at my Italian leather, high heeled boots. Wesley had instructed him. 'You don't look into your mistress;'s face. you don't dare pretend to be her equal. She takes alpha cock now you sad white arse bitch.'

'That's better Ben' I said as softly as possible. I seated myself on the sofa before him, my leather boots inches from his face. I sat this time open legged my bare sex peeping at him. I knew that he would smell Wesley on me. Cunt ruled him. I used cunt to press him down. He would want to lick it, bare and brazen, stretched to fit the black man's sceptre.

'Answer the question' i demanded, still inspecting my phone. Now, any moment, a speed dial and Wesley's deep baritone voice would be checking. 'You OK babe? There a problem?'

'I've told Ian and Karen, and I've told Marcus' he said hesitatingly. They were our friends. They were our more liberal friends. Of all the social circle that we shared, they would respond in the most relaxed way. All of those folk had seen me out dining with Wesley anyway. They would have guessed the world was changing for me, for Ben inevitably too.

'Kiss my boots' I ordered and angled the phone down his way. He couldn't know whether I was filming or not.

Ben pursed his lips and kissed my boots, each in turn. I clicked my fingers and he started to lick them. Ben had never done this in public before, but eventually Wesley would make him. He would suck cock, worship cunt and clean boots with his flicking tongue, in public.

'What about Megan?' I asked and saw him cringe.

Megan was his mother. Yes, mama! Megan liked Wesley. She loved his charming manner, his easy masculinity. She assumed he was the closest of friends, but the intimate details she didn't know, not yet. I guessed that Megan was liberal too. Why shouldn't a woman judge and chose. Why shouldn't she assign roles and determine territory, dictate rank within her own home?

'No, not yet....' and then he added 'mistress.'

'You will tell her this week' I said imperiously, keeping the phone directed in Ben's face as he licked and grimaced. 'You will explain that you asked Wes to be the man of rhe house and explain that you're a submissive. Understood?'

He nodded. I angled each boot up in turn, the way that Wesley had required. Ben was to lick the soles too, the dirty soles. He was to destroy his male soul by licking every dirty inch of his mistress boots. I watched Wesley's slave lick on, his tongue full, his mouth open.

'Megan will see Wesley driving me around in the Porsche, ' I reasoned lanquidly, 'it's pointless pretending. You have lost Ben. You suck master's cock, you beg to lick my cunt, it's time to start living publicly what you are already.'

He watched my hitch up my tiny black leather skirt. It took a moment and then I could finger my bare sex. The scent would torture him. He would ache to lick higher! all i could think of as i did this was Wesley relentlessly pumping inside me. But this crippled Ben, i knew it did. My sex gaped as I touched myself. i am different now. I am Wesley's bitch.

'you're beautiful mistress' he whispered between boot licks.

I glanced down and thought, yes, I am. My sex is beautiful isn't it Ben? It's hypnotic. It's enslaving you in the most primal of ways.

'Do you admire the way Wesley stretches it?' I asked contemptuously. I pushed three fingers inside.

'Yes mistress' he said dejectedly. It was as if reality itself, the coming change, wrung that out of him.

'So you're going to tell Megan the truth then?' i asked, teasing my clitty.

'Yes!' he gasped.

'And encourage her to accept Abraham's invitation on that cruise?' I asked. Abraham, oh Abraham, what a handsome and distinguished son of Barbados. He is so sexy and well Megan was widowed wasn't she?

'Yes' he repeated, his whole body shaking.

'He'll make Mama so content. then you can be what you truly are' i reasoned.

He was waiting staring at my wet sex. I only have to touch myself thinking of Wesley and I glisten. I knew, yes, i knew, Ben was desperate to lick.

'The Porsche keys' I suggested.

I watched him drag them from out of his trouser pocket. He held them up to me.

'No, you have to give them to Wesley and to thank him for being my man, understood?' I said it coldly. My fingers ran gently across my swollen bud. You know don't you? You know what he answered.