The Best Laid Plans

My new neighbour was very attractive and definitely interested. For the moment, you'll just have to take my word for both – and my word that the combination made the ploy viable.

Opening the door, she was smiling faintly and the smile actually broadened slightly when I said: "I don't imagine your key would open my place?"

"I sincerely hope not," she replied, reaching behind her partially open door and producing a set of keys, "but here, have a try." She even traded me for the light bag of groceries so I could free both hands.

Of course it didn't. Handing the keys back, and taking back the bag, I said, "I expect that's a good thing. But I just haven't a clue what I did with mine."

"Why don't you come in for a minute? Give yourself the chance to look for them properly."

"Sure." I followed her inside, coaxed off my trainers then padded barefoot after her -- following her shapely tush as she crossed to the kitchen island.

"Wine while you look?"

"Sure. Thanks." I placed the bag on the island and began to take out the contents one item at a time. Okay, she worked from a stand-up desk by the window. That's what I'd suspected. But it didn't explain the sheer amount of time she spent watching when I was in the parking lot. "I expect we'd meet eventually one day. But I'd rather it wasn't through my stupidity."

"As you say, it was bound to happen. Cheers." She maintained eye contact when we clinked glasses, hers twinkling faintly. The bag empty I turned it upside down and the only thing to drop out was the till receipt. Shrugging, she added," They'll turn up. I bet 10 bucks they're not far away."

"Don't bet money, please." I was checking the pockets of my hoody. "I was a dime short at the till as it was. I mean, I don't normally go out like this so everything's in my other slacks but it was just a few items so you know how it is."

Turning out my pockets, with a frown, I peeled off the hoody and began to search it properly. Then laid the hoody beside the groceries and started on the pockets of my jogging pants.

She may've had a hint that I had come out commando (which I had, preparing deliberately and selecting my wardrobe carefully) because she wandered away to the desk and glanced out the window, sipping her wine. When she turned back, I could tell from her smile that she'd confirmed what she already knew. Oh hell, I'll make it simple. I'd left my keys on the roof of my car "accidently" and she'd been watching when I did it. Now I knew she knew and she knew I knew she knew, so I was just going through the motions when I dropped to one knee and began to search around the elastic 'in case the keys had dropped down that far', of course.

When I rose back to full height, it was who was going to blink first. The silence stretched and it was obvious from the faint smile that it wasn't going to be her. Why should she? l I hooked my thumbs in the thick elastic of the waistband. Then she lowered her glass an inch and said, "They might be caught in your tee, of course."

That was true, so I peeled that off first...shook it out, shrugged wryly and added it to the hoody and the groceries on the island. Then I hooked my thumbs again, and, when she said nothing, simply peeled them down...

She couldn't have kicked me harder in the balls if she'd actually applied the boot. "'Police please.'"

I'd only just stepped out of the jogging pants, my head snapped up and I froze, horrified, still bent in a full stoop.

"'Yes, I believe there's a naked man in my condo...'"...she was speaking into her iPhone and made a sweeping gesture with her foot and I straightened up, both hands over my groin now...and when she made the gesture again, heart pounding, I kicked my pants toward her..."'No, I don't know who he is. I've only just come in and there are clothes all over my floor..."...she collected my jogging pants and tossed them outside on to the balcony, sliding the door closed and latching it, all the while making uh-huh noises, like she was agreeing with what was being said...then she faced me again and motioned for me to place both hands atop my head...

I did. Swallowing very very hard, believe me.

Only to have her turn the phone toward me and snap a photo. "Next time it'll be a real 911 call. Get down on your knees, facing me..." she was manipulating the phone ...sending the pic somewhere???! – shit!..."... keep those hands up on your head..."...there, just like that..." she snapped another photo...and she started working the phone again...she WAS sending the pic, somewhere...

The phone wasn't the only thing she was manipulating.

My mind only re-synched with the present part way through her sentence. "...Thank you. I bet the girls I'd get a CFNM scene with you inside a month and you've just won me 100 bucks..." Bitch!-she'd played me right from the start! "...nice cock, by the way. "

"Thank you." Damn. Her smile said, 'guys are so easy' – and of course I was, had been. I was even expressing gratitude now.

But she'd just gone on. "...now if you behave yourself and do what you're told, the girls will blur the face when they post the pix..."

"Post?!"

"Yes, we all belong to this CFNM site. It's sort of CFNM – femdom...lie down on your back, head away from me...good...arch up so your balls are fully exposed..Higher..." I was on tiptoe at full stretch. That wrestling position where all your weight is on feet and neck. Looking under my arm I watched her drop to her haunches to snap off several pix. "Thank you. Relax."

It was a relief to lay back on the carpet and catch my breath. I realized, of course, that what had been mutual in the moments after she looked out the window had become a "scene", as she'd described it. A scene entirely under her control and direction. As though reading my mind, she smiled, looming over me now, slipping off her shoe and starting to roll my rock hard cock and taut balls with the ball of her bare foot...

I then realized it was the relentless pace that was the source of my unease. As a rule, the naked person in the room has control – or at least some control. Ask any stripper. Scoff if you like, in my experience it's true. You retreat to this state-outside-yourself, sort of, and for much of the time everyone else allows you to initiate activity. Okay, for some of the time and it may vary from person to person how much exactly but some at least. Not on this day. Not with her. She was a half-step ahead in thought and action. It was her scene, to use the term again. Her world. Her control. Utterly.

"Rules of the game," she was saying, then she dug her toes sharply into my balls – getting my immediate attention," are you listening?"...I managed to nod through the haze of my watery eyes..."...Good. Because I'm not going to repeat these so pay attention. The people I send pix and vids to I trust. They will not pass them on elsewhere. Understood? Say you understand."

"I understand." She was back to rolling my cock and balls gently under her foot. It was a relief...to know the pix wouldn't be floating about... well, also to have my throbbing cocks and balls being ministered to in such a pleasant manner...

"Any pix and vids that are posted will have the face blurred or otherwise unrecognizable. Unless you fail to take direction effectively. In that instance pix and vids with the face intact will be posted on a special private page within the website...the idea then being that any full female member will have the means to recognize you and exploit you for the purpose of continuing your training. Understood?"

She had to coax me once more with her toes but I did understand and told her so and she went on, " Good. The actual rules are simple. I say, you do. Anything less and you'll be punished and posted – posted on the site that is...anything more and you'll be punished and posted." Her ministrations were fantastic. Very talented foot obviously. "Understood?"

"Yes." The sharp pain made me gasp, but subsided quickly.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I understand." God, that felt good...when she did that little roll thing with her toes.

"Yes, I understand Ms Red."

"Yes, I understand Ms Red."

"Excellent. In a little while I'll paint bits of you red, it's a form of marking you as my property but for the most part if you do what I say, when I say, exactly what I say when I say we should get along famously. Now," her foot moved up to my face," there's pre-cumm all over my foot – open up and lick it clean. Come along, hurry up, it's not comfortable to stand on one foot. No no, leave your hands above your head, just open up, now – that's better, now start licking..."

My mouth was completely full, distended. I felt like it was her entire foot in my mouth and I had to work out how to make my tongue function, then I did and I was licking and it was hard to breathe and I realized when my eyes focused that she was over me, had rolled me about a quarter on one side and was now also using her other foot to tease my cock and balls again. And she was smiling, holding out her iPhone...taking a vid!? – this lady was my dream domme... and at that moment , with that thought, I lost control completely and felt the already welling wave of the orgasm hit with massive, shuddering richter-scale jolt....