My annual salary is 60,000 dollars per year but I have to think carefully before deciding whether to go to Starbucks to buy a coffee. And if I want to buy new clothes or gadgets I have to beg for the money. If those around me knew of my circumstances they would be shocked but probably amused when they discovered the reasons. Of course, it was keeping the reasons a secret that kept me in slavery to my Mistress, although that wasn’t the only reason. I was obsessed by her and I craved her attention. She was clever, very clever and, of course, very sexy.
It had started simply through boredom and lust. I had been on my PC looking for websites to arouse and excite me and I had come across a website for dominants and submissives. I had narrowed my search to dominant females living in Atlanta, Georgia where I lived and up popped a photograph that made my cock stiffen. Such sexy cleavage! I clicked on toe profile and the other photos did not disappoint me. If only I had jerked off and then got up from the PC I would have probably avoided the depths I had now sunk to.
She had known so well how to manipulate me like a puppet, At first it was simply an exchange of messages that left my cock throbbing and then she allowed me to appear on cam for her. She made me take out my cock and sit on my hands. If I touched my cock she would be gone forever. It was so frustrating. Then she appeared on cam. The sight of her made me want to stroke and cum but I couldn’t.
“Would you like Mistress to unbutton her blouse for you?”
“Oh God, yes.” i replied. She laughed as she viewed the effects her words had on my cock.
“Such a bad boy. Wanting to stroke its cock and look at Mistress’s titties.”
Her words and tone made me feel as if I would explode but I needed to touch my cock.
I knew that one stroke would result in me shooting my load.
“OK, baby, mummy knows how much you want to play with your little clittie.”
I had never been spoken to like this before but somehow the humiliating words just increased my arousal to breaking point.
“Send me fifty dollars right now and I might let you play with it as I unbutton my blouse.”
I had never sent money before but somehow I couldn’t stop myself. She closed down her cam with the parting words “Your money will let me know that you are serious. It’s up to you.”
My fingers trembled as I hurriedly did what was necessary to send fifty dollars.
Soon she was back on cam. “Good boy. Now I can unbutton my blouse and you can jerk off and then i won’t see you again or you can surrender yourself to me. Do you think you would like to be my slave?”
I was new to this world of domme and slave but I knew that I wanted to see more of this sexy lady, this Domme.
“I want to be your slave.”
“Good boy. I want you to be my slave. You may stroke your cock, ten times only and make sure you don’t cum.” My cock had recovered a little from the peak of excitement just before I had started to arrange the transfer of money, so I was able to stroke it ten times without cumming.
“Good boy. Well done. By tomorrow I want a summary of your life so far and then a section detailing your sexual history including how often you jerk off, how you jerk off and what you fantasize to.”
She logged off and despite the fact I had just paid fifty dollars to be allowed to stroke my cock ten times didn’t seem to anger me. She hadn’t even unbuttoned her blouse. She was clever.
Over the next few weeks she got to know everything about me and I quickly realized that she had the power to ruin me. She never made any such threat, she didn’t need to. But as well as all the information I had supplied she had made me take photographs of myself stroking my cock with her name written across my chest.
So when she told me to send her all of my financial details I knew that i couldn’t refuse.
Sometimes she did amuse herself by frightening me with exposure. On one occasion she told me that she wanted to create a profile for me on a local site that showed I belonged to her. The profile would have one of my photos on it. I pleaded with her and eventually she smiled and said. “Don’t cry, little boy, mummy is only joking.”
She used the mummy voice and words when she particularly wanted to humiliate me. After all she was only 27 and I was 40.
I soon learned why she had wanted all my financial details. From now on my salary was to be paid into her account. She would then transfer a sum of money to my account that would cover all my bills.
“But, I need more money than my bills.” I had said with some shock at the discovery of what she had planned.
“Of course you do, baby” she said. “You will come to my house every week to collect your pocket money.”
I felt outraged, scared, shocked…and yet my cock stiffened at her words.
I had never seen my Mistress in the flesh and now I would see her every week.
“Is my little slave happy with this arrangement?”
Despite my inner conflict I replied, “Yes, mistress.”
And so I made the banking arrangements and I found myself without a cent in my account that wasn’t needed for bills. Within a month I had surrendered all my money to this beautiful girl. Not only that but I had still to see Mistress’s cleavage and I had still not received permission to cum. She had cast a spell on me and I was powerless to do anything about it.
I remember well my first visit to collect my ‘pocket money”.
I was outside her house for the first time, ready to see her and hopefully able to collect my ‘pocket money”. It all felt humiliating but…I was very aroused and very excited. I pressed the doorbell and waited.
The door opened. There, in front of me, stood my Mistress. I felt like a nervous schoolboy. Being in her presence was something I had often fantasized about and now it was real. I tried to hide my feelings, I didn’t want to seem weak or wimpish. She smiled at me and spoke: “Come in, my little slave.” She had a tendency to use words like ‘little’ and ‘baby’ and ‘boy’ and she knew that those words were both humiliating and arousing for me, words that made clear who the dominant partner was.
I entered and stood in the hallway with my back to her as she closed the door. “Turn around and face me, my little slutty boy.” I turned and faced her. She was beautiful. Her make-up, her clothes, her figure all contributed to an image of perfection and power. I breathed in the scent of her perfume. I was in heaven. I found it difficult to look at her eyes, I suppose I was in awe of her and embarrassed. She spoke again, quietly but firmly. “You may kiss my boots.” Of course, she knew everything about me, all of my masturbatory fantasies and my fetishes.
She knew that boots and cleavage were two of my biggest turn ons and she was obviously making good use of that knowledge.
I knelt in front of her and kissed each of her boots. I looked up at her wondering if she wanted more than a brief peck on each boot. “I want you to kiss and lick my boots as if they were my beautiful tits.” I was already aroused but those words made my cock twitch and stiffen further and I knew that she was aware of exactly the effect her words were having. I began to lick her boots with occasional sloppy French-style kisses. After a few minutes she moved the boot that I was licking away from my mouth and as I looked up at her she spoke to me, again gently but firmly. “Stand up now and take off all of your clothes.”
Such words and actions in fantasies are arousing and humiliating in an exciting way but here in front of a girl much younger than me the thought of undressing as she watched felt deeply embarrassing. I stood up but she could see that I was hesitating. “My little slut must learn to trust me and obey me instantly. Don’t think about what I tell you to do, simply do it.” She said those words without any anger or hesitation, it was as if she was an instructor or teacher tutoring me in the art of submission. I undressed as she stood and watched. I wasn’t proud of my body but I was glad that she had seen it in photos and on cam, otherwise I would have dreaded the thought of her disapproval or disgust. I wasn’t fat or ugly but my body was quite hairy and my stomach had begun to develop a bulge. Still, I did feel uneasy because this was the first time she had seen me in the flesh. I knew that I wasn’t her boyfriend but I still wanted to feel as if she found me appealing or at least not unappealing. The worst part was the final part when I pulled down my underpants to reveal my semi-erect cock.
She looked directly at it, smiled and then reached out to cup my balls. “Have you been a good little boy and made sure that your little clitty hasn’t spurted.” Once again her humiliating words made my cock stiffen. Humiliation is an uncomfortable feeling, sometimes a dreadful feeling but my cock seemed to take delight in it. “Your balls seem full. You must be very frustrated. When was the last time your little dickie made a mess?”
“Two days before I met you.” I replied. It was a fact that I knew well because every so often I would add up how many days I had been in chastity. Chastity without any device but just as effective. Somehow, I felt that Mistress would know if I had cheated and I wasn’t prepared to take any chances. “Well, today might be your lucky day.” Again, she smiled at me and I smiled back pleased to hear such news, although the words ‘might be’ did make me wonder under what conditions my day might not be lucky.
“Ok, horny bitch, follow me into the front room.” I began to follow her. She turned and stopped. “Silly boy. On all fours. Crawl into the room like a good doggie.”
Yes, humiliation in real life was quite different from on cam. I got down on all fours and followed her into the room. She walked towards an armchair and then collapsed into it and put her booted feet onto a coffee table. She turned and looked at me. I was still on all fours but had stopped moving. “Here doggie” she said beckoning me towards her. I crawled towards her and then waited alongside the armchair. “Good doggie. Sit.” I sat on my heels the way I thought a dog would sit. She patted my head and then spoke to me the way in which someone might speak to a young child.
“Now mummy is going to work out your allowance, your pocket money.” She lifted her feet from the table and reached across to collect some paper and a pen.
For the next few minutes she asked me to detail every dollar I might need for spending. Clothes, lunches, coffee, newspapers, shopping…She added up the total. “200 dollars. Too much. Let’s make some savings. You don’t want Mistress to have to give up anything. How would you feel if you were out having lunch and Mistress didn’t have enough money to buy new clothes and jewellery to go out clubbing?”
This didn’t seem fair to me. She had my monthly salary. I was only taking 200 dollars.
She noticed my reluctance to answer. I didn’t want to displease her. “I can do without some of the coffees.”
“Good boy. Well done. You do love your Mistress.” She reached down and clasped my cock. She gave it three strokes and then took her hand away. “See. Mistress is kind to good boys.”
So, we’ll deduct 30 dollars for unnecessary coffees and cakes. That means you have 170 dollars.”
She got up and went over to collect her purse. She returned with a pile of notes and counted out 170 dollars. She put away the remaining notes . She moved the pile of notes close to me.
“Ok, baby, you can get dressed and go now unless you want to have a wank and cum.”
My cock stiffened. “Yes, please. I am so frustrated.” I could hear the pleading in my voice.
“Ok naughty boy. Let me check my tax list.” She reached over and lifted a clipboard with a sheet of printed paper clipped to it. “You’ll like this, my little slutty slave,” she said with a grin on her face that I hadn’t seen before. “Do you want me to read your options.?”
I replied yes but I was confused. What options.
“Wanking blindfolded but close enough to breathe in my perfume, 20 dollars. Rubbing your cock against my boots blindfolded, 40 dollars. Stroking your cock while looking at my cleavage 50 dollars. Rubbing your cock against my boots and looking at my cleavage, 80 dollars.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Oh…,and if you want to cum, then 50 dollars has to be added to your wanking tax. Wanking taxes and cum taxes are two different taxes.”
“Mistress,” I pleaded “I don’t have money to spare. Please don’t do this.”
She reached down again and grasped my cock and began stroking as she spoke. “There you are, baby. That feels good, doesn’t it. You do have enough money, we just worked it out together. Mistress is not making you wank or cum. That is your choice.” She stopped stroking. Remember you will be back here next week. Your options might be different and the taxes may have been raised but you don’t need to wank or cum today.”
Her stroking had aroused me so much, combined with a glimpse of her cleavage as she leaned over towards me, I knew that I would have to pay. I was thinking fast. What could I afford?
“Come on piggy, I don’t have all day. You have one minute to decide.”
“Mistress, I want to rub my cock against your boots and look at your cleavage.”
“OK, baby, that sounds good. But you are not paying any cum tax, so make sure you don’t cum There is a 60 dollar fine if you cum without having paid the tax.”
Mistress lifted up the pile of notes and counted out 80 dollars. She put the 80 dollars away and placed the remaining 90 dollars on the table.
“Ok, dirty boy, start humping.” She stretched out her right boot and I clasped it and began to hump. She then slowly unbuttoned her blouse, talking as she did so. “Good boy. Keep humping. Mistress is going to show you her beautiful tits.” I was getting too excited. I needed to stop. It was all too much for me.
“Don’t stop, you little bootfucker. Hump it now, you little faggot.” She revealed more of her cleavage and she began to move her boot against my cock so that I couldn’t slow down. Too late. I exploded all over her boot and I hadn’t even got to see her beautiful breasts.
She wouldn’t let me clean myself but I had to lick the mess from her boots and the floor. I had to dress with the sticky cum dried into my leg.
Worse still, I left her house with 30 dollars in my pocket. 30 dollars for a week. How was I going to survive?
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