Busted by Brenda

“P-please,” I stammered, my lip trembling, just at the last moment, feeling her hand on the back of my neck. “Please. Be gentle.”

She looked into my eyes softly, kindly, and clicked her tongue. “Aw,” she said. “Of course I will.” And she snapped her knee into my crotch.

The shock hit me instantly and I flinched hard, and I felt my face screw up, felt my balls retract and the ache flow into my guts, but I was actually surprised that it wasn’t worse. I felt an odd delight in knowing I could take another, and I could feel this mixing in with the bleak, submissive blend of comfort and fear as she squeezed my hip with her other hand. My fingers gripped against each other, interlocked behind her waist, and I put my head against hers as I braced myself again.

She pounded her knee inwards again, and I let out something between a moan, a groan, and a yelp. She pulled back ever so slightly and rubbed her knee gently against my package, and I felt the blunt, electric touch through my jeans, the denim rough against my skin. I was alive to our every connection, to the strands of her hair along my cheek, to the presence and strength of her left leg against my knee, and to her hands as they held me in place.

She kneed me again, and as I lurched forward I shifted my forehead onto her shoulder. A second one came quickly after that, but softer, and I raised my face and pulled her into me, my right hand slipping up her back and gripping her neck. I felt surrounded and invaded by her, and as she held me I surrendered to her and let my knees weaken, letting the wall support my back.

I almost floated there as she pressed her knee slowly up into me, lifting me and letting my weight bear me down upon her, and I opened my eyes through the fog and caught sight of us in the mirror on the closet door. The sight hit me harder than she had, and as I swooned at the stacked muscles of her body, at her architecture and her geometry, and at the way she was supporting me, as I thrilled at the way the muscles of her legs rippled and swelled in her leggings, I watched her drop her foot to the ground and then snap her knee upwards again.

I finally crumpled into her, my feet searching for their grip on the ground, and she felt it. She kissed my neck and guided my body as she turned me around and laid me down on the floor, and as she stood up and loomed over me she gently pushed my ankles apart with her toes.

She stood straddling my right leg, and she slid the toes of her right foot along the carpet until they were underneath her, and she stayed like that for a moment before asking me, “Had enough yet?”

I looked blearily up at her, and she grinned wickedly, and then she bent down and undid my pants before pulling them down to my ankles. She reassumed her position above me, putting her hands on her hips and smiling again as she stretched out her leg and pressed her foot down on my naked cock. She mashed it and tapped it, and pressed against it with the ball of her foot, and then she stepped back, gave me an inquiring look, and kicked my balls with the top of her foot.

I groaned fully now, and my hands reached up for her leg but she swatted them away with her foot and I returned them to my sides. My heels dug into the carpet and she kicked me again, and I squinted up at her desperately and finally began to feel ready to beg for mercy, and I took one more of her kicks before lifting up onto my elbows and sputtering out, “Please! Please Mistress.”

I felt my knees shake, aching desperately to bring them together. She stuck her heel at the base of my cock and stepped on my dick again, and she looked down at me with incredulous satisfaction as she bent over onto her knee. “Yeah?” she said. “You know there’s only one way to get me to stop.”

“I’ll do it,” I replied weakly, my voice shaking, and she ground my penis under her foot.

“You’re ready?” She smiled. “Good boy. Roll your legs over.”

She stepped over my body so that she was straddling my head, and gratefully I felt my thighs cradle my aching balls as I twisted my hips and laid my knees to the ground. I brought my hands together and rested them on my sternum, closed my eyes and felt the relief beginning, and when I opened them she was waiting patiently, her face proud and magnificent.

“Are you ready?” she asked, and I took a breath, looked up at her, and nodded. She lifted her foot off of the ground and shifted her weight onto the other, and she brought it over my head and flexed her sole. She lowered it until it filled my vision, and then said, “Kiss my foot,” and she mashed it into my face as I puckered my lips.

I kissed and kissed, and looked up at her, and she looked back down at me as she observed my act of adoration and submission. I was beaten beneath her, subjected by her power, and I humbly kissed her foot.

“Good boy,” she said again. “Now that you’ve had a taste of this you can count on more whenever you resist my feet, whenever you disobey me, and whenever I need to correct you.” She traded her feet idly and made me kiss again. “I own those balls and I will treat them however I want. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” I mumbled into her foot, and she slapped me across the cheek with it.

“Say, ‘Yes Mistress!'”

“Yes Mistress!”

“Good boy.” She put her foot back in my face and held it there, and slowly the ache in my groin began trickling away. I breathed and sighed under her clammy foot, and after a minute she let me roll over onto my side. She kept stepping on my cheek, trading off between her two feet, and then when I had finally recovered she pulled my pants the rest of the way off and took me to bed.

She held my testicles gently in her hand, and kissed them a little, and then she rolled me over and spooned me while she held them, and all the while I felt more and more of her control sink into me as the pain ebbed away. Before long I heard the snap on the bottle of lube, and her cool, glistening hand wrapped around my cock and began stroking as she reached around me, and I sighed and laid there nearly limp as she pulled and tugged and squeezed.

“Those aching balls are gonna cum for me,” she whispered in my ear. “Right here on these sheets. You’re gonna spill for me, and when you’re done you’re gonna lick it up like a good boy. And if you don’t we’re gonna start all over and I’m gonna kick you again. Understand?”

She didn’t need my response because she could tell I was getting closer, but I pursed my lips and nodded, and I felt it beginning to take me. She humped firmly against my ass and I pushed my back into her tits, and she stuck her chin into my neck. I shrank within her embrace and felt my powerlessness to resist. And I came.

She squeezed me firmly one last time and let me go, and then she rubbed my side with her other hand and grabbed me by the hair on the back of my head. “Come on busted boy,” she said sweetly. “Lick it up.” She guided my head down to the thick puddle on the sheets and let me scoot my body out of the way, and then with a final sigh of acceptance I licked and took the semen into mouth.

“There’s a good dirty boy,” she cooed. “Get it all.”

I swallowed, and she made me lick the spot a few more times before rolling me back over and kissing me deeply, her tongue searching my mouth for any sign of resistance, and then she looked into my eyes and smiled happily.

“Good boy,” she said again. “You did well for your first time.” She kissed me again, and I closed my eyes, and I trembled as she added, “You can bet it won’t be the last.”


© 2018

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