The Zipper
"Now listen very carefully as I will say this only once. I want you to look very closely at my boot. You will notice that there are pieces of fluff sticking out of the zipper. I want you to start at the heel and work your way all along it to the very top removing that fluff with your tongue as you go" As she spoke Mistress rang her finger along the full length of her high heeled stiletto boot from its base to the very end of the zip adjacent to her naked thighs. This delicate movement ran along her inside leg, was arched across a small table adjacent to her kneeling slave. Indeed the boot was only inches from the tip of his nose. He was vaguely aware that following the movement that same hand returned to caressing the tip of a long leather strap as if it were working on the, by now, bloated end of his penis. As his hands were already sore, he viewed with some trepidation the prospect of not carrying out to the full the precise wishes of Mistress as she continued "And when you reach the top of the boot do not, I say again do not, under any circumstances, come into contact with my thighs"
The slave did not really hear these assertive words of Mistress. His eyes were gazing at her boot and the soft, white, sensitive skin of her inside leg which started at the end of the patent leather. There was not much room between the top of it and the fabric of her black knickers which barely covered her bulging crutch. Somehow he already knew, he just knew that, in spite of the punishment he had already received, he just would not be able to escape temptation when he eventually reached that forbidden zone at the summit.
The session had begun some 15 minutes earlier when he had rang the bell outside an office-like building which formed part of the urban sprawl of Fort Lauderdale, an establishment which called itself Dominant Divas. That door had lead him to a large open area. Opposite a reception counter was a waiting lounge with glass doors and beyond the counter he could already make out a makeshift classroom with easel and blackboard facing what looked like a camera on a tripod. Shortly after his arrival a brunette lady entered the waiting room. She was already wearing a traditional black corset and thigh length stiletto boots which are almost de rigour for ladies of her profession. Accompanied by the self same receptionist who had earlier answered the outside door the slave deigned to ask "Are you the dominatrix?" "I am she replied" as she sat down beside him. She began to look though the form which he had been asked to fill in on first being seated. "I understand you have a web cam here in this establishment." he asked nervously "We do" answered Mistress picking up on the slave's obvious interest "and not only are going to be disciplined in front of it but Mistress Arna who is here is learning how to become a Mistress and will be watching the whole proceedings as well.
The slave did not seem to be given a lot of choice, the Diva was already directing operations. "Right, she said, standing up, I will be back in minute. Prepare yourself for your lesson." At that they both strode out of the room saying nothing as to what preparation the slave should make. Feeling that thee was no alternative, the slave removed his clothes and put on his black leather belt. Other than this, stood bollock naked, he felt somewhat ridiculous which, of course, was the whole point -the more ridiculous he looked the more abasement he would suffer when forced to masturbate. However, such activity it would not just be in front of this Prima Donna but also whoever happened to be viewing her internet site at the time. Yes, that was the extreme rub about this house of domination. - they had a web camera. It was the most extreme form of public humiliation as the potential numbers of people watching live could run into millions and for an exhibitionist the real turn on was there was no way of knowing just who was out there.
Brandishing the strap and a leash, the domina returned and the slave soon found himself on all fours crawling towards the classroom. Around his neck was a dog collar dragging him towards the base of the easel. "I want you to show me your homework slave." "Homework?" "You mean you have not done the homework" "No Mistress" "And why have you not done the homework?" "I did not know I had any Mistress." It seemed a reasonable answer to him, after all, how could he be expected to do homework as he had just walked in off the street. That of course is the whole point, he was going to get a leathering whatever excuse he came up with. The only point of answering was that, by being sorry, came the hope that she might not be so severe. " Pathetic excuse that is" she bellowed. " And what happens to slaves who produce feeble excuses for not carrying out my express instructions?" "I do not know Mistress" Oh, I see, you don't know? well you'll certainly know in a minute or two. Slave, you are going to get the strap." "Yes Mistress."
"Right get over here and stand with your feet on those two marks on the floor." Mistress indicated two marks on the tiled floor which were about 1 and a half meters apart. They were positioned about 3 meters directly in front of the web camera. In order to cover them with his to feet the slave would have to stretch his legs somewhat. In some ways it was slightly relaxing "I want you to stand with you hand out straight, palm upwards facing the front." "Yes Mistress" "Don't say yes Mistress just do it!!" she bellowed. "Yes Mistress" "You will receive six strokes on each hand, quite firm and harsh and count each stroke out loud followed by the words: Thank you Mistress, is that clear?"
It was time for the discipline to begin. With his hand outstretched, Mistress placed the strap she had been brandishing across his hand. Taking careful aim, she raised it across her shoulder and swept it down towards the slave's palms. The look of fear on his face was palpable as the black leather impacted his skin ringing out a sharp crack which reverberated around the room. Whack "One, thank you Mistress" Whack "Two, thank you Mistress" Whack "Oh" This reply, as the crisp crack of that third strike rang out round the room, indicated that Mistress had scored a perfect hit across the slave's palms. It had taken just a microsecond for the pain to register in his brain. The "Oh" response came simultaneous with a little dance as he began to wave his hand in the air as if it were a butterfly fluttering in the wind. "Get back on that spot" bellowed Mistress. "What was the number?" "Four" he whispered, still blowing on his hand trying to alleviate the pain "It was not, it was three" she retorted "Alright three" said the slave "Three what?" she bellowed "Three, thank you Mistress" came the answer. "Legs apart, hand out!" the discipline was not about to stop. He was half way through the first hand and already it was simply killing him. Furthermore that web cam was transmitting the whole sordid affair to all and sundry. Whack "Four, thank you Mistress" "That's better" Whack " Ow" he was dancing again. That female dominating voice: "Get back on that spot" "Yes Mistress" "What is the correct response "Five thank you Mistress" "Correct, now get on that spot NOW!" The slave moved back to the two spots on the floor still waving his hand in the air and occasionally blowing his fingers to relieve the pain. "Put it out!" spoke the Amazon facing him. "Put it out" He just could not face another one. "Put it out NOW!!!" She bellowed.
The only way he could do this was to support his right hand by holding his left arm underneath the elbow. Forcing the arm into the upright position he continued his little dance from side to side causing the tip of his erected cock to bounce up and down as if attached to a spring in simple harmonic motion. The assertive female voice: "Legs apart. On that spot. On that spot! Do it NOW!!" She roared. Whack! "Six thank you Mistress." The slave breathed a momentary sigh of relief. He had at least completed half of his discipline. At least he thought he had. It was time for change of hands. Unfortunately for him, however, Mistress was in no mood to slow down the session. "Right, other hand," she spoke.
The second hand was little if nothing different from the first. Somehow he managed to get through the set of six without having to beg for "mercy" that key word which was agreed would terminate the session. He had struck a deal that a "mercy" call before the first twelve would cost ten times the price of a session which at $200 came to a sum of $2000 dollars. The slave had deliberately agreed to this condition just to make sure he went through absolute hell and had placed it cash on the counter top. From now on it was all down hill - he began the work of licking her boots knowing that this time disobedience would at least allow him to mercy out without a huge financial penalty.
He began on the stiletto heel, pushing it deep into his mouth. Then, slowly working his way along the heel, he neared the closed end of the zipped up boot. Inch by inch he worked his way along the zip pulling out small items of fluff on the way. Looking upward he could see the lovely long legs of his Mistress and the forbidden zone which began at the very top of the boot. All the time he was thinking about how he was going to deliberately disobey her command. As he approached the zip fastener Mistress reminded him once again that "under no circumstances," was he to touch any part of her skin.
Reaching the boundary of her boot the slave withdrew his head briefly from between her parted legs and looked longingly at the tresses of her auburn hair. He then motioned his head back towards them and deliberately and expressly kissed her right in the middle directly on the outside of her knickers. For a brief second Mistress delayed her fury as if to soak up the enjoyment of what he had done for, if nothing else, he had caught her off guard. It took only seconds for her to regain her composure before she grabbed his hair and wrenched his head back away from her mons. "Right that's it" she yelled "you're going to get a hiding that you will remember for the rest of your life. Get back on that spot for another twelve"
The slave moved back to the strapping position wanking his cock for all it was worth. Mistress was in such a fury he was now dead scared of what she was going to do. Since, by arrangement, orgasms signalled the end of the session, his only way out was going to be shooting off in front of his Diva, web cam and all. For one brief moment his outstretched hand took a blow before he fell to his knees uttering a series of sighs which were so loud that could have been heard in the road outside. As the liquid spurted out of his cock it was sprayed in the air by the force of his right hand masturbating the entire length of his penis. The sticky mess went everywhere all over the floor including across Mistresses's shiny black boots. - he had avoided his fate by a hairsbreadth.
"Right you will clean up and report back to me in two minutes" With that she strode off the set and out of sight of the web cam. As the slave looked down he was overcome with a feeling of embarrassment at the sight of that web cam still focused on the same self spot from where the discipline had begun. Within a few minutes he was back out in the real world of Fort Lauderdale and thus cast away from that world of fantasy of strict discipline and unreasonable bitches. He would never likely know if the camera really had transmitted his face across the Internet although deep down he thought it was unlikely. That of course is the burden of an exhibitionist, never to know what effect this behaviour has on the rest of us. As to his fantasy, its fulfillment had been ephemeral, lasting just long enough until, once again he found his lips against the zipper of a female clad in thigh length stiletto boots.
