Dance

Helen’s new slave did exactly as instructed. He opened the door, keeping his eyes lowered and, after closing it, prostrated himself at her feet and kissed her shoe. “I’m slave George,” he said. “I belong to Mistress Helen.”

Brenda laughed, stroked his head, picked up the end of his leash and said, “How nice! A new slave. Come along, slave George. I’m a little agitated this morning and I can use your services.”

Turning to Helen, Brenda asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a new one? I would’ve come over last night.”

“I just got him last night,” said Helen, “and I plan on keeping him for quite some time.

“Mind if I take him into the spare bedroom for a few minutes?”

“Not at all,” Helen replied. “Need any equipment?”

“Actually, I’ve been looking forward to seeing your next slave. Now that he’s here, I’d like to use Charity.”

“Certainly. He’s had too easy a time of it today anyway.”

George was listening to the easy banter between the two women and was growing appreciatively apprehensive because Brenda was shaping up as being equally formidable. He thought Brenda looked fabulous in her tight jeans, floppy sweater and the red, high-heeled sandals.

Handing Brenda her whip, Helen sat back and watched as her girlfriend led George away on his hands and knees.

Once inside the spare room, Brenda inspected George more closely. She, too, had noted his erection the moment he kissed her shoes. Brenda wasn’t the least bit shy. She quickly slipped the sweater over her head, revealing a voluptuous figure in a deep-cut red bra. “Remove my shoes and hold them while I take off my jeans, slave,” she commanded. “While you’re at it, lick them clean.”

Brenda took down her jeans, stepped out of them and - much to George’s delight - revealed a red garter belt, bikini panties and black nylons. Sitting on the bed, she extended a limb straight forward, arching her foot as she did. “Suck my toes, slave.”

George felt himself tugged toward her by his leash and soon had her toes wriggling in his mouth. He sucked them individually before she gently pushed them all between his lips. Withdrawing, Helen offered him the same thrill with her other foot and toes before telling him to put her shoes back on her feet.

Brenda stood, turned her back to him, and brought the leash between her legs, pulling it tight. She forced George’s head against her buttocks, saying “Kiss and lick my ass, slave. I want every inch of it moist by the time you’re finished.”

He went to work as Helen slightly bent forward, giving his mouth and tongue access to the entire area. He energetically licked, stopping only when she jerked his leash, then dropped it.

Brenda left the room, returning almost immediately with Helen’s wrist shackles. “Put your hands behind your back, slave,” she commanded. “I want them out of the way before I introduce you to my brand of discipline.”

George responded the only way he knew how – “Yes, Mistress.”

“Helen is your mistress,” she said.“You’ll call me Lady Brenda.”

“Yes, Lady Brenda.”

“Kneel beside the bed, drape your body over it. I’ve been looking forward to whipping a man ever since your mistress dumped what’s-his-name over three weeks ago.”

George got into position as instructed, his upper body over the bed, his knees on the floor. Brenda stood behind him, ran the lashes lightly down his back and over his ass before pulling it away. She then applied the whip in a punitive manner, whipping him as hard as Helen had at her angriest last night. The slave squirmed, moaned and cried as the whipping progressed. “That’s it,” she said. “Hurt for me. I love whipping men and I love hearing them whimper when I’m doing it.”

While flogging him, Brenda was using her other hand to rub and caress her clitoris and her breasts. this wasn’t play for her. She was administering a sexual beating aiming for what she needed most this Saturday morning – a long overdue orgasm. Abruptly, she quite and sat on the bed beside the crying George. Giving him no respite, Brenda ordered, “Get your body off the bed, worm, and use your teeth to take down my panties. I want you eating my little pussy better than you’ve ever done anybody before.”

George struggled, using his teeth to work her red panties down over the garters, over her knees and finally over her spiked red sandals. He nuzzled his face into her warmth, extended his tongue and searched for her love button. Finding it, he flicked the clitoris over and over, occasionally stopping to send his tongue scooting into her love canal. It didn’t take long before Brenda, worked up before having arrived at Helen’s and only having her horniness enhanced by whipping him, came in a torrent on slave George’s tongue.

Lying back and turning over on her stomach, she said, “Get your head up here and suck my high heel while I get my breath. You did a nice job, slave and – in a few minutes – you’re going to get your reward. While you’re sucking my shoe, stare at my beautiful ass. Give it all your attention.”

George found her shoe and slipped the heel into his mouth. His cheeks compressed as he sucked his tormentress’ spiked leather. At the same time, he looked up her gorgeous legs, past the stocking tops and the garters. Brenda hasn’t exaggerated. Her ass was beautiful.

Brenda sat up, undid his wrist restraints and told him to jerk off for her. “Focus all of your attention on my ass,” she said. “Think about how wonderful it was licking it earlier. Think about how much you want to worship it now. Use your left hand to play with your balls. I want you to cum all over my ass. Pump your dick faster, slave. Shoot it. Make me feel your hot cum all over my cheeks.”

George was delirious with lust. Her words, her actions, and her continued control of him through her manipulation of the leash – combined with her smile of superiority – took George to his peak. He ejaculated in seven or eight delicious spurts, spreading his semen over both of Brenda’s gorgeous buttocks. A moment later, he’d pumped himself dry.

In her gentlest voice, Lady Brenda said, “Lick it all up, slave. I want you to eat your cum from my gorgeous tush. That’s it, swallow it for me.”

Giving him no time to recover, Brenda swiftly put her clothes back on and pulled him after her to the living room. Accepting the leash from Brenda and once again putting him to work licking her boots, Helen said, “I hope you feel better now.”

“Oh, much,” Brenda replied.

“You must be. I couldn’t help but hear Charity doing her lovely work in there. And you weren’t too quiet yourself.”

“He didn’t do too bad a job. I may want to use him again after we get back.”

Helen, looking down at her foot worshiper, said, “We might do a number on him together. Would you like that, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress Helen,” he managed.

The two women visited for a while longer, all the time Helen holding onto George’s leash. They both used him as a foot rest, too, as they discussed where they were going, what they wanted to buy, and where they’d have lunch. When they’d decided to leave, Helen looked down at George and said, “We’ll be back in about four hours. By then, I want this house to be spick and span. I don’t want to find dust anywhere. And I want the kitchen floor to be clean enough to eat from. In fact, that’s exactly where you’ll be eating tonight. any questions?”

He had none.

“And, if you happen to finish before we’re back, get the wrist restraints, put the end of your leash over the hook in my bedroom, then put the shackles on. I’ll want to see you there on your knees when we come in.”

The two left him at the door, after he’d kissed all four feet. Once out of the house, the women were all smiles. In the car - they used his - Brenda asked Helen how she did it.

“Actually,” Helen replied, “it’s quite simple. There are a lot of guys just like him, And once you get up the nerve to make your intentions known, they almost always fall all over themselves trying to get you to do the things they’ve only imagined or read.”

Brenda acknowledged the validity of Helen’s statement and said she wished she possessed enough self-confidence to do what Helen so successfully accomplished. “Any time you want a slave, you get one.”

“It’s all a matter of knowing what to look for,” she said. “When I was still in high school, I came across an article in a magazine I shouldn’t have been reading. At first I was shocked. But the more I read about male submissiveness and female domination, the more I recognized my own needs. In the article, for example, it suggested that women interested in the superior position should look for men who pay extraordinary attention to their feet and shoes. Combine their interest in feet with a certain longing expression and chances are good you’ve found a sub.”

Brenda asked, “But, it must have been awfully hard getting your confidence up.”

“It was,” Helen acknowledged. “I was only 17. But even then, even in high school, I put the principles of the article to work. I started recognizing guys who had hang-ups about my shoes, leather and feet who themselves didn’t know it. The more I watched them watching me, the more self-confident I got. One other aspect of the story was that - trite as it may sound now - ‘if you want to be something, act the part. Pretty soon it won’t be acting any more.’ The more I played at being a dominatrix, the more I fell into it. Now it’s second nature.”

“You know I love dominating and whipping and humiliating your slaves, Helen. And I’m grateful that you let me... but I want one of my own.”

“That’s really no problem, Hon,” she said. “Jut put one on your shopping list. You’ll recognize him either in the mall, in the subway, at work, and - best of all - in social situations.”

The laughed yet each knew that the other was perfectly serious.

Back at the house, George couldn’t believe his luck. Ever since his first Domme, he hadn’t found another woman, besides professionals, who wanted to dominate him. Now he had two, both of them dynamite in the looks department and both happy to have his slave services.

He wanted his mistress to be impressed with his efforts so he made up his mind to work hard during the time Helen and Brenda would be away. He went about his chores systematically, thoroughly doing one room then checking everything before moving on.

Three and a-half hours later he was finished. As he worked, George couldn’t help but thank his lucky stars that he had found Mistress Helen. Not only was she beautiful and sensuous; she also satisfied every erotic yearning he’d ever had for a woman.

Making a final inspection, he satisfied himself that his mistress would find nothing to criticize. He allowed himself a short break, taking a snack and a glass of diet soda before putting the shackles on his wrists, using his mouth to secure the catches, then hanging the end of his leash over the hook in his mistress’ bedroom.

He knew he was a slave. His submission shone through as he knelt on the carpeted bedroom floor in self-imposed bondage, at his mistress’ command and awaited her return.