On a boring Sunday morning, I happened to be near enough to my business phone to answer the near constant ringing. The same person had been attempting to call me all morning hoping against hope to get through to me on the one day off I happen to have taken that week. He sounded like a kid at Christmas morning when I finally answered with a very annoyed, “HELLO?”.
“Oh, hi Mistress, I was wondering if it might be possible to book a session for Wednesday of this coming week”….he chirped. It took me a minute to bite my tongue from asking why he couldn’t just wait until Monday to try calling and why he found it absolutely necessary to just ring my phone off the bloody hook until I finally answered, but I had my coffee in hand and my favorite song was on my stereo so I kept my cool… “Okay, would you like to tell me a little bit about the type of scene you were looking for?”
After a few minutes of listening to him explain in vivid detail what he had hoped for, I decided it actually might be fun to go ahead and indulge him. It was a simple scenario, but one that would take me time to prepare. I made the necessary arrangements and patiently waited for Wednesday to come.
He arrived on my door step, shaking like a leaf ….with good reason. My face was stone cold that day, no pleasant hello’s no warmth – just a waiver thrust into his face for him to sign before I allowed his past my entryway. He signed politely and was granted access to my dimly lit dungeon, a faint smile began to cross his face. I gave him a warm squeeze of the hand, gesturing out so he could visually take in what I had in store for him.
Across the room knelt 3 slaves, all hooded but otherwise disrobed, huddled closely to my huge backed Princess Throne. They looked eerie under the flicker of the candle light…not one of them said a word. So obedient, ominous and uniform like perfect little pets. I left my newly entered slave standing in the middle of the spacious room as I moved to take a seat on my pedestal. One of the hooded boys happens to be one that I’ve been training for quite some time, instinctually he sprang from his relaxed state and positioned himself in front of me to serve as my foot stool. I think the immediacy of his actions startled my new play toy – he merely stood there fixing his eyes on my small harem of boys.
“Stand in the middle of the room and remove your clothing” . My words, sharp and clear, pierced the room. Frantically, he began tearing at this attire as if he’d never removed his clothing before this moment. His nervousness was very amusing, I couldn’t help but giggle as he attempted to take his pants off over his shoes. After much fidgeting, he stood in front of us entirely naked with every inch of his body appeared tense, shy and uneasy.
“Do you know what you’re here for?” I questioned. He shook his head yes, his eyes growing wide as it dawned on him that this was actually happening – just as he imaged it. I stood up abruptly, everyone in the room seemed to flinch, I approached the new boy and guided him by the shoulders to kneel on the floor before me. I towered over him in my knee-high stiletto boots; naturally I stand 5ft 5in, but I was nearing an Amazonian 6 ft in these boots. I traced the inside of his thighs with the sharp tip of my boot and immediately a trail of goose bumps raced across his skin. “Ask me for it…” I purred.
Without even so much as a stammer, he made his request. “Please Goddess, bust my balls”.
I drew back my foot sharply and began administering a few test kicks. Not so much to judge his pain tolerance, but rather his natural instinct to draw back or cover himself. A vain attempt was made to curl up before my foot made its initial blow to his helpless balls. I snapped my fingers and abruptly two of my hooded boys came to his sides, firmly holding each arm out and away from his body.
For the next 5 minutes (and I’m sure it felt like an eternity) I walked around my prey, mixing soft and sharp kicks with the tip of my boot. I paused occasionally to smash his balls firmly against his thigh, mocking him with a cruel verbal assault. My audience of boys laughed at his plight, holding him still and keeping him entirely vulnerable to my advances. Each of them knew what it was like to be the focus of my sadistic attention, so it must have been quite an experience to witness it first hand being applied to someone else. .
Per his request, he would receive 5 kicks with ‘full intensity’. He knew it would be done barefoot so I made a show – a ritual really, of taking off my tall shiny boots. I let the laces slip off rather sensualy, opening them with my long red nails and slender delicate fingers. It must have looked terribly erotic since my little captive started growing a rather stiff and shameless erection. With my boots off, I removed a small blindfold from a nearby shelf and wrapped it lovingly around my boys eyes. There would be no bracing, no “seeing it coming”….nothing.
Each delivered kick was firm and intentional. He groaned and coiled with each connection of my foot to his helpless balls. He did manage to thank me in between each and every painful blow until finally the last was forceful impact was administered. . He was released to curl into the fetal position on the floor. A flurry of mumbles spilled from his mouth, gratitude, pain and a request for ice. *grin*. He very humbly crawled to join at my feet for a little attention post scene. It was beautiful really, a session I won’t soon forget.