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boldie

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1

My sub and I have arranged a tryst for the night in an elegant hotel. I had told her to make herself suave for me and await her arrival in our room with a rose stem in her mouth.

She had gotten there late. I watcher as she walked into the hotel then she calles me. It was twenty minutes later than the time I had instructed.

I gave a soft knock on the door and she  swing the door ajar. I stand there in a long stylish red coat with fury in my eyes. She notice the open-toed heels I have on and she admires my  toenails, which I had painted in harmony with the hue of my coat. A crash across her face recalibrated her attention. I watch as she stagger from my slap. Displeased with her lack of respect for me, I order her to get on all fours as I close the door behind me. She ought to have known better. It is my rule that she always greet me on my knees when we meet like this.

I walk to a table and set down my voluminous handbag in which I carry my instruments of torture. She follows me on her hands and knees.

I remove my coat, beneath which I adorned in a black lace catsuit - it’s fabric open at my vulva. Mesmerized, she stare.  I take a seat, my legs open, a wicked smile curving my lips, and order her to rise and perform a striptease for me. I want her naked. She removes her shoes and begin to dance. Off come her top, underwear, jeggings and face cap. Piece by piece I make her drop her tomboy facade until she is left with nothing but her nakedness, a chastity device around my p**sy and a butt plug clenched between the curves of her ass.

I laugh and let loose a string of invective - beautiful curses that humiliate and make her desire me even more. I get up from my seat, I close in on her and shove her back up against a wall, my words of abuse is unabated; a volley of bitchslaps follows and she is pushed back down on all fours. I command me to kiss my feet. As she press her lips to my toes, I make her take in the scent of my nail varnish. I recede my feet as I begin to walk back to my bag on the table. Crawling, she attempts to keep up her kisses. I grab her head, pull it up and wrap a collar around her neck, to which I fasten a leash. I order her to resume kissing my feet but jerks the collar to and fro as she attempts to do so, preventing her lips from reaching me. I can barely contain my amusement. While her neck is still straining to worship me, I make a cat-o-nine tails tear into her back. With a whimper she buckles to the floor.

I whip without mercy. I notice as the waves of pain seep beneath the pores of her body. She try to stay on all fours but again and again my relentlessness leave her prone on the floor. I drag the point of my heel down her spine and grind it into her clit. When I have flogged and trampled her to my heart’s content, I tell her to roll over on her back and look up at me. Towering over her, I size her up with contempt. I stoop, and then order her to open her mouth, and I aim a warm jet of piss down her throat. She try to swallow it all but it seem too much and she begins to choke, piss running down the sides of her head. I then lower myself onto her face and tell her to eat me out.

Then it is time for the huge strapon . . .

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