Femdom life and a committed female led relationship are not always whips, chains, leather and lace. Rather it is a life of service, devotion and rules, structure and guidelines. I take pleasure in pleasing Miss, seeing her smile, making her life easier and better. She delights in the peaceful life guiding us. I have given to her, she takes, and it is a natural power exchange. But one that is not selfish or life committed solely to Her whims and solitude path. She enjoys pleasing me inasmuch as it demonstrates her power and ability to cause that pleasure and her regulation of our energy and dynamic that empowers her.
Last Saturday started as a desultory affair. I had been working all week and was rather stressed. I had performed my daily service including cooking, cleaning and organizing our flat. I folded her clothes, but my usual delight in feeling her panties, her clothes was missing. My mind was occupied, even as she prompted me to snap out of it, focus and find meaning in devotion to her and us. As much as I tried, I couldn't break the cycle. Saturday is also my "hygiene" day. Mistress unlocks my chastity device at the beginning of the day, places it in the cleaner for cleaning and disinfecting as I shower/ It is then replaced when she desires. After a workout, shower, and after I shave all of my pubic hair, after I am then inspected for hairless smoothness as she desires, it is replaced. Usually, but not always.
This Saturday was different. After showering and a shave, as I awaited inspection, I found instruction: kneel at the foot of the bed and await Her. I was afraid...I knew this week was difficult and displeasing. Not full of the seamless power structure and ebb and flow of life, but rather distraction and dissonance. Punishment to refocus surely awaits.
After what seemed like ages but was probably no more than 10 minutes Mistress came in the room. And an appearance she did make. Clad in birght shiny skintight latex from head to toe. Black, shined up and oiled, hugging every curve, showing every inch of her divine body, pulsing as she moved. Perched atop tall (but not outrageous) heels, she strode in. Her hair was tied up and back to frame her lovely face which betrayed a glint in her eye and the power she felt.
My body and cock instantly responded of course. My freed cock, instantly sprang to attention, responding to her, involuntarily almost. I couldn't have stopped the raging erection if I had tried, which I didn't try to. I reacted to her, as she desired, and I was helpless. In rapture, yes -- but powerless in her presence. In addition to my cock, my nipples tensed, my body tightened, air sucked out of my lungs, and my eyes focused on her.
And mentally, too, my perspective shifted. Not to the struggles of the world, not to my looming punishment but to her, to the Latex, to the shine. She knows I adore latex, the look, the touch the smell, the squeak. Oh the lady doth torment me even as she appears as a vision before me! I have been conditioned I suppose, to respond to her. I shifted from awaiting inspection of my shaven body to focus on her. On Her power, her smell, her very presence. These are the moments that seize and course through me, make my life full of color, feeling, emotion. Gratitude for such a presence in my life. Passion that is not only inspired but provoked, yanked out and awakened. from daily life.
After I recovered a semblance of my wits, she strode over, and put her finger under my chin to life up my eyes to meet hers. I would have fallen over if she desired, I suspect. Rather she said, "Time to focus, slave boy. Remember me. Who I am for you." I mumbled "yes Mistress," knowing she saw my body's display of her power, my reaction and powerlessness. "Now you will be mine and follow, not think, follow." She then handed me a bottle of oil, and said simply. "Worship your goddess."
I took the oil knowing it meant I was to shine. To feel the latex, smell it. To feel her body, feel her body through it, under it, as I served. I stood, and as I did my hard cock brushed against her leg...and I felt the twitch in it, the reaction. Desire, inspired and created, a gift from Miss. Not punishment, but freedom.
As I lotioned rather mindlessly, in circles, and poorly I suppose, i felt her hand grab my hard erection. Lightly, almost lovingly, as she whispered to me "And how is my cock? He seems to enjoy this? Has he missed me?" I croaked "Yes, Miss." even as she knew the answer, as if there was any other possible reply.
"My cock will orgasm when I say, and will deposit your devotion on my boot, do you understand?"
"Yes Miss, of course." As her rhythm sped up and my mind went blanker and blanker, feeling her power, her will, her control over my body, but also my mind. My sexuality, my emotions, my lust. I felt the powerful urges, the physical clenching and tightening as the hormones surged through me. Pre orgasm desire, holding out but also letting her dictate my reaction, as if i could make such a choice, now.
As her cock got harder and harder, She simply said "Now!"
Her cock and my body responded as trained and a spurt of white semen came out and covered her glistening boot. My eyes clenched shut as my body orgasmed. I went blank for a few moments, feeling the ecstasy and emotion.
And I knew what came next. Miss simply pointed to her boot. Wordless. I knew what she wanted, even as I despised the act -- clean her boot, eat my orgasm and feel the power she had, over me, over my orgasm inside me. I knew she liked watching that struggle, surrender and visual representation of power incarnate.I lowered myself and put my tongue out to lick up my orgasm. The gooey, salty taste that even now, years into our relationship and countless orgasms later, that made me gag and recoil. But I did it, as I always do, because I know it pleases her.
After I completed my task, I looked up to see her smile. "Good boy" she said, and with that turned around and left the room. I stared at the Latex covered ass and just smiled. My Mistress. My Life. Her World.
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