It is wearing the panties I told it to wear.
It's penis is in it's cage and I can see the padlock is peeking out over the top of the pretty lace of the panties it is wearing.
I don't call him by his name or Michael, as he is known outside of our play space, or even acknowledge he has a name. He is an 'it' while he is serving me.
It's purpose is to serve me, it's mistress. That's what it enjoys. That is what makes it's filthy, seedy precum leak from the tips of it's pathetic little weiner.
***
"I see you have completed the task I set of sweeping the floor." I offer in a neutral tone as it kneels before me, it's hands on it's lap, lookng down.
"Let's check it, shall we?" I say as I bring the riding crop up from my side and run it from his left nipple, up over his chest to his shoulder and onto the side of his face. I pause on his lips and he licks the white stitches in the sewn black leather, making it shiny and wet so it glistens and drags his saliva across his face as I draw it across his cheek and back down to his shoulder.
Walking heel to toe in a small circle in the room, I make him watch my feet in the heels he loves.
I bought these heels because so many men I meet want to lick and suck and worship a lady's heels; something about the perfect shine, the lustre of the thin line of diamantes on the heel, maybe, but the simple act of placing the heels or the pointed tip at the toes anywhere near a man's cock or balls while he is restrained has his cock twitching for me, every time.
I say I bought them but they were a gift from a man just like Michael. He was so grateful for the chance to play out his submissive side, he would bring me things or ask what I wanted for our next meet. It was always clothing or lingerie, usually of a BDSM theme and it always hit the spot; not necessarily an orgasm either, as they are not always allowed.
The room is silent as I move from heel to toe, my heels click-clacking against the wooden floor.
His eyes follow my steps, watching the rythmic tap of the shiny spiked heels as they play their mocking beat.
"You like watching me like this, don't you."
"Yes mistress" Michael replies.
I pause as I take a few more steps towards him.
"'It' will inspect Mistresses feet for dust and woe betide you if you find so much as a speck of dust on them." I instruct him.
"Bring your hands up for me." I snap, sharp and to the point.
He lifts his hands, palms up and I lift my stockinged leg to place my foot on his palms.
"What can you see?" I ask.
He tries to lift my foot closer and I bring the riding crop down on his hand.
"Don't lift my foot, maggot, bring your face closer, bow down for mistress. I don't serve you, YOU serve ME!"
"Yes, mistress." Michael says as he lowers his head towards the foot he is holding.
"Well? What can you see?"
"Dust." he says, a quiet resignation in his voice.
I let a silence settle in the room so he can reflect.
"Dust? Dust! All I ask is you sweep the floor and you can't even do that properly. How pathetic!" I hiss as I place the riding crop on the back of his head.
"Lick them clean!" I demand.
"Mistress?" he asks.
"You heard me."
"Yes, mistress."
A damp spot has formed on the front of his panties where his precum has started leaking out.
I watch as he licks the pointed toe of the leather and runs his tongue down the side where the sole meets the leather. He doesn't need me to tell him what to do as this is his fetish and I steady myself as he starts on the spotless sole of the stilleto, it's shiny red sole even more shiny as his saliva traces a line around the outside edge.
His breathing is getting quicker and he is starting to moan as his hand dips to his tiny cock, trapped in the steel wire of his cage, only to be slapped away with the riding crop.
"I want all your attention on cleaning my heels..."
Twisting to lick the line all the way up the side, to the top of the heel, Michael is fully into it and his entire world seems to be the line of the heel, the texture of the leather and the stiching as it passes under his tongue, the smell of the leather and the feelings of absolute submission to me.
He lurches and the stain in his panties grows dark and spreads and he bucks, lifting on his knees as his orgasm overtakes his hips and cock, making him spurt his cum against the inside of his panties, flooding the fabric with his warm goodness, filling the tight void around the cock cage with sticky, gooey mess which he has no choice but to sit with.
"Look like you have made a mess in those panties again... more laundry chores for you, later!" I say as I bring my foot back down to the floor. "and make sure you complete THAT properly because I will be making you check all MY panties too!" |
