Testing the Submissive(9)

By: Al Daltrey

“Thank you Grekko Sir, for allowing me to satisfy my slutty nature. Thanks for letting me fuck your foot. I promise when I’m done, I will clean it up before I go.”

I continued my story, telling Lewis about lowering myself onto Grekko’s foot: I was very wet, but I had to guide his toes inside me. I maneuvered myself until his big toe grinded on my clit, and then I start to ride him. I was bouncing and rocking, literally humping his foot. I was fucking it. I was fucking Grekko’s foot. As earlier, I was cumming in minutes, soaking his toes. When my orgasm subsided I lifted myself off him, and cleaned him as promised.

As I bent lower, I’m not sure what smelled stronger, my juices or Grekko’s foot. I remembered he was working in the yard when I first arrived. Nevertheless I was temporarily satiated, and had a job to do. I licked every inch of that foot until it was no longer shiny with my juices, but with my saliva. I sucked on each toe and licked in between them. I lapped at the underside. I didn’t rush. Then I blew lightly to dry the area, and in my peripheral vision I saw Grekko smile. Neither of us said a word as I dressed. By the time I opened the front door to leave, I could see he had fallen asleep.

“Your next appointment is with a couple, Trudy and Tony,” Lewis said, matter of factly.

“Yes, Sir.” I was happy to move on to another subject, quite embarrassed about my actions on the last appointment. I glanced down toward my thigh, moving the table cloth to the side so I could see my skin. The red blotchy skin was swelling slightly. There was a clear delineation where the wax had touched.

I couldn’t help but think I deserved the mark on my thigh.

“It’s already confirmed. Three weeks from today. Your leg should be well healed by then. Location and payment details will follow by email.”

I nodded my consent.


A month later, one week after the assignment…

“So,” Lewis said with a smile, “what did you think about Tony and Trudy?”

Likewise, I smiled as we chatted about the unique couple who had enjoyed my services a week earlier. My observations were confirmed by Lewis. Tony, the supposed dominant in the relationship was cleverly influenced every step of the way by Trudy, the supposed submissive. Tony was the one who had delivered every stroke. On the surface he was in charge. However, it was the mischievous nature of his girlfriend Trudy that caused me the most pain, both physical and emotional.

They had played a game called ‘five for five for five’. Trudy’s idea of course. Five areas of my body would receive five strokes, delivered by five different instruments. My breasts saw five forceful blows from a riding crop. The back of my thighs tasted the intensity of the cane. My ass got five good ones from a wooden paddle. My nipples had their first ever introduction to the torment that a kitchen spatula can bring. And, saved for last, my pussy suffered five nasty strikes from a leather flogger.

Lewis wanted to hear the details, and asked his usual batch of questions.

“How were you positioned for the first one?”

“For the breast whipping, I was made to stand with my hands on the back of my head. I was told to push my elbows outward, which thrust my breasts forward.”

“Where was Trudy while Tony whipped you?”

“She was sitting in a big reclining chair, naked, touching herself – watching and making comments throughout.”

“What kind of comments?”

“For example, after Tony’s second strike on my breasts, Trudy asked him if he remembered a bdsm video they watched where the Dom had such precise aim with the crop, he could snap it right on the very tip of the nipple.”

“Let me guess,” Lewis said, “Tony took the bait?”

“He did, Sir. He aimed directly for my nipple for the last three whacks.”

“Tony was unaware of her sly manipulation, wasn’t he?”

“Indeed. He thought she was curious about his ability to aim, but all she wanted was to cause me the maximum pain. She had a devilish grin when he hit me.”

“Did you stay in that position when they moved from the crop to the cane, for your thighs?”

“Not quite, Sir. I moved closer to the coffee table, and was made to bend forward, until my hands rested on it. This displayed my thighs nicely to take the cane.”

“What kind of cane was it?”

“From what I could tell, it was a thin wooden flexible cane, which I must say – hurt like hell.”

“Did Trudy chirp in with any comments, this time?”

“Not surprisingly, yes. She asked Tony if you had imposed any limits to how hard he could hit me.”

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