Welcome back to the electrifying continuation of a story that started with passion, power, and the exploration of forbidden desires. If you haven’t experienced the intense journey from the very beginning, I urge you to first immerse yourself in the captivating narrative of Part One.
I felt overwhelmed by arousal. Being his dominatrix is going to be a lot of fun.
My previous suspicions turned out to be correct, Henry loved being submissive. As soon as I ordered him to go to the bedroom and wait for me, he obediently did, bowing as he left the room. I went to the bathroom and changed into the dominatrix outfit I bringed. It consisted of a leather corset with laced edges, also lace, backless panties and elbow-length gloves in similar fashion. I put on my high-heels, fixed myself in the mirror and went to the bedroom. Of course, I also took my favourite whip with me, I couldn’t imagine a BDSM session without it.
When I entered the bedroom, Henry was standing in the middle of the room, looking down at the floor. He didn’t even raise his head, when I came closer. I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, making him look at me. With my free hand, I traced his lips and smiled, seeing his silent approval, a permission to do anything I want to him. I let go of his head and stood behind him, leaning against the wall. I felt powerful again, which was rare in the professional escort’s workfield.
“Strip, slave,” I said quietly.
He began taking off his clothes, starting from the top. I was shamelessly watching him, it was my right to do so. He had back dimples, which I always thought were cute. His arse wasn’t half-bad either. Soon, he was standing naked, still turned away from me, his clothes neatly folded and placed on the floor nearby.
I walked closer, my heels loudly tapping on the flooring. I loved this sound, nothing says “I’m a dominatrix” more than a confident walk. Then, I took my whip and gently ran it alongside his spine, making him twitch. When I got to his arse, I stopped being gentle and lashed him right across his shapely buttocks. He let out a quiet grunt, but remained in the same position. A red mark quickly appeared on his pale skin, making me even more aroused.
“Get down on all four,” I told him and he immediately listened.
I whipped his sides and arse a couple more times, covering him in blood-red lashes. He didn’t move even an inch, only whimpered a couple of times. Once I was satisfied with the result, I sat on the bed.
“Come here, slave,” I said.
“Yes, Mistress,” he answered, his voice quiet and hoarse.
He shuffled closed, still on all fours and stopped at my feet.
“Good boy,” I smiled and brushed his hair.
I knew he had a foot fetish, and I was also into it. Now, it was time for him to satisfy his kink. I placed my foot on his shoulder.
“Take off my heels,” I ordered him, but when he reached with his hand I opposed, “With your mouth only.”
Henry struggled with my request, it took him a good couple of minutes, but in the end he made it. I was barefoot right in front of him, and he clearly wanted me to do something about it. His cock was already hard, I don’t know if it was the whipping or the fight with my heels, but he clearly needed release.
“Now, lie down,” I told him, licking my lips from impatience.
Not even a second passed until he was lying on his back. I placed my right foot on his throat and my left on his face. Then, I pressed a little, limiting his air flow.
“What do you want?” I asked him sweetly, knowing he cannot answer with my foot covering his mouth.
I slapped his cock with my whip, I was gentle, but it still must’ve hurt a tad. I felt his neck strain, probably he tried to say something, but I only pressed harder, choking him. After all, there’s no BDSM without the SM.
“You may touch yourself,” I decided to be nice to him, for now that is.
He started jerking off, but his breaths still were shallow, due to my efforts. I wasn’t planning on letting him breathe, not at the moment.
After a couple of minutes, his face got red as the lashes on his body and I let him go. Immediately, he started coughing and taking in deep breaths.
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” he apologised, still choking.
“You did good,” I smiled at him, “But stop for a moment.”
He stopped jerking off, awaiting instructions.
I stood up and felt the unpleasant sensation when my thighs brushed against one another. I was dripping wet. In theory, as a GFE escort in London , I should be prioritising his needs, but today I was also his dominatrix.
I kneeled over his face and slowly lowered my hips, until I felt his eager tongue sliding inside me. Apparently, Henry hid from me how good he was at oral sex. My head was already filling up with billions of ideas on how to use it in the future. I rode his face with no mercy, until I finished twice. Then, I stood up again and positioned myself in between his legs. I placed my left foot on his cock, pressing it against his stomach, and started jerking him off this way. This is what I liked most about guys with foot fetish: there were many ways in which we could have fun.
Unfortunately, Henry finished quite fast and cut our session short. His tip was enormous though, and he promised it wasn’t our last time, so I was satisfied.
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