Mistress Doreen Ch. 08

Author's Note: This is a love story of a female dominant/male submissive relationship between mature people. This is fiction. If you enjoy such stories read on and please comment and vote. If not, choose another story more to your tastes. This Chapter is the eighth in this series. Please read the preceding chapters for context. To the gentle readers of the previous chapters I want to express my deep appreciation for your votes, encouragement and comments. Enjoy!

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Life went on day to day. As with most couples, our life together consisted of the mundane - work, cooking, laundry, cleaning. These we did together, whenever possible, enjoying each other's company, just like most other couples. But there were aspects of our life together which were decidedly different than most of our neighbors, as this episode illustrates.

The final legal niceties of my divorce from my former wife, Jane, were resolved rather more amicably than I anticipated, all through the auspices of Doreen's and Jane's lawyers. In those early days with Doreen, my few encounters with my family and old friends were strained, but not severed. Doreen, secure in our relationship, always encouraged me to attend when invited to gatherings of my family and old friends, even when Jane would be there. Jane's anger towards me dissipated with time until our admittedly rare meetings were now polite. Jane seemed genuinely interested in my welfare and even sympathetic. I was grateful for her attitude and truly pleased that she had obviously successfully moved past the trauma of the breakup of our forty plus year marriage. Jane was more reflective and relaxed than I had seen her in years.

But those small interludes with my past life were only an unexpectedly pleasant footnote to my consuming passion for Doreen. She had predicted that I would become obsessed with her early in our relationship. She was right! She was an imaginative, experienced and complex woman whose depths I plumbed tirelessly.

I never knew Doreen to have a sexual relationship in which she was not the dominant - very dominant! - partner. Just as I found sex without submission bland and unarousing, Doreen's insatiable sexual appetite was fueled by her domination of the men who served her.

By the time I met Doreen, she had developed an infallible sixth sense which allowed her to identify and exploit a man's submissive tendencies - even when the man himself was unaware of them. She took particular delight in exposing and seducing men who, prior to encountering Doreen, had projected a macho facade, often exploiting women in their turn. Some of these chauvinists became her most devoted sexual slaves. Doreen enjoyed extracting a little extra measure of submission from each for their previous attitudes and actions towards women.

Our new home owners association manager was a case in point.

A glancing blow from Hurricane Irma had produced significant, tho not severe damage to our community. Months after all the repairs had been finished, the question of who was to pay for what lingered. In stepped the new Home Owners Association (HOA) manager, Curtis Ruland. A native of Central Florida, 5'10", stocky, mid 30's, he was hired by the management company to wring some extra money from the homeowners in the guise of a 'storm damage fee'.

Curt took advantage of the ages and foreign citizenship (mostly Canadian) of many of our neighbors - dunning them, threatening them, browbeating them - until most had simply paid.

Doreen was unconvinced of the necessity or legality of this extra fee and she was simply outraged at Curt's behavior which he directed mostly at our elderly women neighbors. I agreed with her.

As the owner of record of our home, Doreen refused to pay and ignored Curt's many letters, notes and phone calls. When he threatened legal action, Doreen took Curt's next phone call and arranged for a meeting at our home for early Tuesday afternoon. I was scheduled for work, but suggested I could come home early for the meeting. Doreen scoffed at me and with a twinkle in her eye and a hard edge to her voice simply said, "I will take care of Mr Curtis Ruland."

With her assurance, I left for work following our ritual farewell - Doreen harshly grabbing the back of my hair and pulling my lips towards hers, her mouth opening to insert her strong, luscious tongue deep into my waiting mouth, her right hand roughly stroking my cock and squeezing my balls. She would continue this blatant - and welcomed - sexual assault until I was rock hard, my balls were sore and I wanted nothing more than to surrender to the dominant sexual skills of my wife. Then she would cruelly pull my head away and sneer, "Just a little something to remember who owns you and who controls these," as she pointedly crushed my nuts in her large, powerful, old hand.

I would gasp my "Goodbye" and head to work suffused with the essence and vision of the woman I so dearly and desperately loved.

When I returned that evening, I found Doreen relaxing in an overstuffed chair, adorned in a black leather halter vest, matching black leather mini skirt, 4" black leather stiletto heels and the ubiquitous gold chain which dangled that devilish small brass key delectably in her amazing cleavage. Held easily in her left hand was a half glass of cabernet. In her right hand was her riding crop, held as a queen's scepter. She also wore the most erotic 'cat ate the canary' smile imaginable on her ruby red lips. Her nails, both finger and toe, were lacquered in a matching color. Doreen was a vision of mature, regal, dominant beauty lazing comfortably upon her throne.

"Problem solved," she announced proudly. "You've been cuckolded again today, husband of mine," Doreen almost sang! "Prepare yourself and I will entertain you with the tale of my afternoon's conquest," she directed.

Doreen had made it clear that a condition of our relationship was that I was to be exclusively sexually hers, while she would continue to have as many sexual partners as she desired. Her inexhaustible sexual appetite assured that I would be cuckolded - and often. To my continued shame and submissive sexual excitement, I had asked Doreen to recount her numerous, amorous adventures. Her detailed recitations never failed to humiliate and arouse me. They gave Doreen an opportunity to humiliate me and relive her salacious experiences - both of which aroused her. These sessions confirmed Doreen's dominance and my submission and always ended with explosive sexual pleasure for the both of us - and frequently pain and degradation for me - all of which left me perversely eager for my wife's next extramarital adventure.

So - at my wife's 'suggestion' - I prepared myself as usual. I closed and locked our front door and pulled the blinds. I sank to the floor, disrobed, placed my clothes in Doreen's wooden box, snapped shut its lock, and crawled to my sexy wife carrying my collar, leash and lock.

Doreen affixed the collar tightly, a thrill shooting through me as she snapped the lock closed and attached the leash. I bent my head and began licking and kissing my wife's large, lovely feet and polishing her spiked heels with my willing tongue.

"Good Boy," Doreen said approvingly, "Now to begin."

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DOREEN'S NARRATION

I was sitting, waiting for Curtis Ruland just as you see me now.

He knocked at our door.

"Come in MISter Ruland", I said, exaggerating the first syllable sarcastically.

He opened the glass door, saw me and froze, mouth agape. I had seen him ogling me at the pool, even in the presence of his wife! So it was no surprise that he now stood stock still staring wantonly at me.

"Close the door, lock it and close the blinds. We both want this interview to be private, don't we?" I asked pointedly.

"Yes, Ms Wheeler," Curt said unevenly as he shook himself from his stupor and complied with my instructions.

Curt was dressed in casual pants, short sleeved dress shirt - top button undone and tie loosely and carelessly hanging from his neck - and slip on shoes. He carried a small portfolio of papers with him. His pants were already tenting, assuring me of the reaction I expected and needed.

Curt is actually quite conventionally handsome - tousled black hair and blue eyes. In his early thirties, he moved his 5 foot 10 inch heavily muscled frame with the assurance of an athlete in his prime. He recovered his poise quickly and smiled as he finished the tasks I had assigned him and stood in front of me. It was clear to me that Curt could use charm as well as intimidation to reach his goal - and he knew it! I understood now how he had been so successful in procuring the required 'fees' from our mostly older, docile, female neighbors. His physique, youth and assurance promised that he would be both a challenge and source of considerable pleasure to me.

I was happy to begin both his seduction and instruction!

While I appraised Curt as he stood quietly before me, I could tell he was appraising me as well. His look lingered a bit too long on my feet - large, well formed, long toes with deep red polished nails - open to his inspection in my 4 inch, spiked heel sandals. With an effort his gaze moved up my long, smooth, tanned legs exposed to mid thigh by my tight, black leather skirt. He paused again, staring at my covered lap before moving upward past my smooth, rounded belly to my massive tits, barely contained within the confines of my soft, black leather halter top.

As if suddenly realizing his obvious, 'inappropriate' visual behavior, Curt jerked his eyes to my serene, composed face. My grey green eyes stared straight ahead at the conspicuous bulge in his pants and then caught his pale blue eyes in my knowing look. He locked his eyes to mine - and actually blushed in embarrassment!

Curt wanted to fuck me! I knew it. And he knew I knew it! It was time to press my advantage.

I held my hands out to Curt. "Help an old lady out of her chair will you, MISter Ruland?" I asked seductively emphasizing the undeniable fact that he lusted after a woman who could be his grandmother. The salacious perversity of his desires reddened his cheeks further as he helped me to my feet.

I now stood just inches in front of Curt, looking down on him as I perched sexily on my 4 inch stiletto heels. I placed the loop of the riding crop around my right wrist and wordlessly buttoned his topmost shirt button tightly around his muscled neck. I straightened and tightened his tie. I turned towards the kitchen and pulled the compliant HOA manager after me by his tie as I spoke over my left shoulder, "Follow me, we have much to discuss."

I walked deliberately into our kitchen tugging the now confused and aroused Mister Ruland behind me, my sexy heels striking the wooden floor the only sound. Curt struggled to keep up, not bump into me and stay balanced all at once. He succeeded.

We arrived and I pointed with my riding crop to a simple wooden chair at our kitchen table and directed, "Sit here."

Curt sat.

I pulled out another wooden chair and sat kitty corner from him, exposing my full body to his lusting gaze.

"Place your papers on the table," I said evenly pointing with my crop.

Curt did.

Unbeknownst to Curt, I was already training him in the habit of obeying me - a habit I hoped to develop further!

It was only then he noticed the table was not empty. Now next to his papers were tokens of his eventual submission to me - a thick, soft, black leather collar with multiple gleaming silver D-rings and lockable buckle, a braided white and black leather leash which could double as a small whip and a shining small brass lock, the key to which hung from the golden chain around my neck into the delectable depths of my tanned, wrinkled cleavage.

I studied Curt closely as the import of these items hit home. A slight gasp, a marked widening of his eyes, a jump in the crotch of his pants all indicated that Curt understood their meaning. He did not protest. He did not move to leave.

Staring into his big blue eyes I asked 'innocently', "Are you married, Curt?" as I pointed out the ring on his left hand with my crop. "I am," I continued flashing my wedding ring. "My husband knows of all my extracurricular activities... and approves of them!" I said pridefully.

In a shaken, small voice - incongruous in such a large, virile man - Curt replied, "Yes Ms Wheeler, I am married."

I languorously crossed my right leg over my left, which hiked my short black leather skirt further up my smooth, tanned muscular thighs, and let my right black stiletto heel dangle temptingly from my foot.

Curt's eyes were torn from mine, lingered momentarily on my exposed thighs and stopped transfixed by my right foot and shoe. I began to slowly swing my shoe by my long, polished toes, capturing his complete attention. I continued this blatant, dominant, fetishistic display for some minutes as Curt remained mesmerized.

Eventually he looked back at the kitchen table - eyes moving from my collar to his papers. In his lust filled daze, Curt was clearly struggling with his two competing objectives - squeezing money from me and fucking me! I had laid the trap and patiently waited for him to spring it.

It finally dawned on Curt that he could use the one - fucking me - to get the other - the HOA back dues. He had used his handsome youth and sexual prowess to good effect before - why not now? But how to proceed?

I read his slow, tortured thoughts easily on his young, comely face. The time had come.

SNAP!

I purposely let my shoe fall to the floor with a clatter.

He dropped to the floor immediately, hitting his knees hard, picked up my shoe in his large hands and reverently replaced it on my foot.

"Good boy, Curt," I said.

He looked up at me with grateful eyes at my unexpected praise.

As Curt knelt before me, I leaned forward, my breasts straining at the soft black leather of my halter and asked, "Do you want to play with me?"

"Yes, Ms Wheeler," he gasped as if the answer were torn from his lust filled soul.

"I only play with totally naked men," I explained.

He almost tore the clothes from his body in his haste to comply. Finally he stood before me in only his blue patterned boxers. This was the moment of truth for me. Was what tented that blue fabric worth all my effort?

Curt answered by lowering them to the ground. I had my answer.

YES!

Springing long, straight, proud and thick from his well trimmed pubis was his rigid cock. Hanging below were his two large oblong balls. My already wet cunt spasmed at the sight and the pleasure they promised for the future - the very near future.

I looked up to see Curt looking down on me with a lustful pride in his manhood - a manhood I immediately set about enslaving.

"Good boy, Curt" I praised him for his continued obedience.

Holding my collar in my left hand, I began inspecting his genitals with the riding crop in my right - poking, prodding, stroking, tapping. These sensations elicited a small moan of pleasure from Curt.

Placing both my collar and crop on the table, I reached forward. Taking his balls in my left hand and his cock in my right (all larger than I could hold in even my large strong hands!) I spread my legs widely and pulled him to me.

His cock jumped in my hand. Another moan escaped his lips.

I took my time inspecting Curt's studly package - pokiing, prodding, stroking, tapping, squeezing. The large bulbous head of his straining cock leaked copious, clear, viscous, precum. Scraping along the sensitive skin, I collected a large dollop on the nail and tip of my right middle finger.

Curt shuddered.

Holding my finger to my lush red lips I looked up into his amazed face. My tongue slowly licked his fluid into my waiting mouth, then sucked in my entire finger.

Curt's eyes widened at the salacious spectacle and he groaned in barely suppressed desire.

Still staring into his pale blue eyes, I reached beneath his scrotum with my right hand, lightly touched his anus and urged his turgid member forward the last few inches to my lips. More precum had emerged from his cockhead. In a single fluid motion my tongue lapped this sweet delicacy into my mouth, quickly followed by the domed top of his penis as well.

My lips stretched widely to accommodate this welcome intruder. My tongue licked the underside of his swollen penis.

Curt gasped in pleasure. I could feel his nuts tighten and the first orgasmic spasm of his captured member.

I spat his dick from my mouth, squeezed his balls hard with my left hand and squeezed the base of his cock with my right.

Staring at Curt's face which had instantly transformed from ecstasy to horror I screamed, "YOU CUM ONLY WHEN I SAY!"

Curt's orgasm retreated, but surprisingly his cock seemed to grow even larger in my hand. As I slowly began again gently stroking his straining penis and nuts, his face took on a sublime look of peace and contentment. The pain and humiliation I had unexpectedly visited upon this most macho of men had not diminished his sexual arousal - it had increased it!

I paused to assess Curt naked. He was attractive. He had an athlete's body - football I later learned. His long, thick, meaty cock reminded me of a stallion's - how fortuitous I had chosen my riding crop! Clearly he was built to order for my pleasure.

Once again he eyed my body with lust. I indulged his pleasure a few moments longer before speaking.

"Kneel to me, Curt," I demanded.

He did, staring at me with confused, aroused eyes.

I deftly plucked a dollop of his precum from his now massive cock with my riding crop and lifted it to my full, red waiting lips. I slowly licked his offering onto my long, strong tongue and sighed deeply upon tasting again it's salty flavor. Pulling my tongue through my lips, Curt saw me savor his taste with widened, excited eyes.

Curt's chest was broad and heavily muscled. His turgid nipples betrayed his excitement kneeling before me. Allowing my riding crop to dangle freely from its loop on my right wrist, I took each of his nipples in my large, old, strong hands. I began to gently massage them and could feel them respond. Curt's blue eyes were partially lidded at the unexpected pleasure, but his lids retracted quickly as I began to squeeze his sensitive flesh harder. When I dug my blood red nails into them his eyes were wide in wonder as he gasped at the mixed pleasure, pain sensation I produced.

I bent my head as I released Curt's nipples with a final, hard painful stabbing of my nails and licked each of them in turn, sucking them into my mouth.

"Ahhhhh!" Curt sighed in pleasure.

When I sat up, I could read clearly the confusion in Curt's handsome young face.

I had long experience in concocting an inextricable mixture of obedience, pain, pleasure and humiliation which ensured the ultimate, complete submission of my victims to me - my will, my whims, my pleasure. Curt was just at the threshold of my manipulations - I never doubted his ultimate surrender to me and I would take my time and enjoy the process. But this would be no quick and easy conquest. Like landing a large fish on a thin line, I would need patience - alternately playing out line and abruptly pulling hard to more deeply set the hook - never pulling too hard to snap the line until I ultimately snared him in my strong, unbreakable net!

My grey green eyes stared deeply into Curt's startled blue ones - and waited. He knelt before me in expectant, obedient silence.

"All the men I play with must wear my collar, Curt", I said in slow, clear tones. "They all beg to wear my collar, Curt", I continued. "Do you want me to play with me, Curt?" I asked with uplifted eyebrow.

Kneeling between my widespread legs - short black skirt riding high on my smooth, tanned, muscled thighs which barely hid the delights of my cunt in shadow - my brown and white, wrinkled and smooth massive cleavage outlined and barely covered by my soft black leather vest - Curt's mind had slowed to a crawl. As I waited patiently for him to make the connection, he remembered the collar, leash and lock sitting on the adjacent kitchen table.