Reader Contribution: Sheers & Submission

A little contribution from my friend Matt.  Hope it gets you as hard as it did me.
Sheers & Submission: Short Story

The digital clock switched to 21:03 as I pulled into the driveway Friday evening. Lazily snatching my briefcase from the passenger seat, my feet wearily dragged along the asphalt as I approached the front door and tiredly fumbled with the house keys. 

My home was dimly lit and vacant. The briefcase dropped to the floor as I headed straight for the study. Comfortably holding the near-empty bottle of J&B, I poured myself a double. As I fell into my desk chair, I felt the cool leather against the back of my neck as I loosened my necktie.

Taking a few generous gulps, I lay the empty glass on the mahogany desk as I sat back and closed my eyes. And then I felt it.

My home was dimly lit, but not vacant.

No sooner had the thought settled in did a man’s arm wrapped around my torso and a thick, moist palm covered my mouth. I could smell the sweat of his tight grip.
“Shhh,” he whispered into my ear soothingly yet menacingly.
The necktie around my neck was removed and my hands were pulled behind the back of the chair, causing my shirt and suit jacket to feel tighter than ever. He secured my wrists with the necktie, although I made failed attempts to break free of his power; I may have been built like a brick house, but he was built like a skyscraper.

“Anything you want is in the safe, I’ll give you the combination, just take it.”
My plea was met with a demonic chortle as I was quickly spun around to face him. I was met with an equally demonic grin.
“All I want is in front of me,” he replied.

He dropped to his knees and loosened the laces on my dress shoes, taking deep whiffs of their insides before dropping them beside him. He grabbed my right foot and massaged it sensually through the sheer dress sock. I looked down at him frightened, apprehensive, and curious. He slowly peeled off the sock, which was moist, having tightly encompassed my foot all day. My bare toes were raised to his mouth as he moved them slowly across his lips, before taking them into his mouth. My trousers became just a little bit tighter.

I let out a sigh, causing his eyes to dart to mine, dropping my bare foot to the hardwood floor. He picked up the rolled up sock and rose to my level, almost straddling me in the chair. The rolled up, sweaty dress sock was pushed under my nostrils violently, then rubbed across my face. “Open wide,” he muttered, as he stretched it out and pushed it between my lips, tying it behind the back of my head so tightly I was forced to bite down on the rank fabric. My other sock was removed and he used it to bind my ankles.

Staring up at the tall intruder and sweating more profusely than ever in my suit, I watched him unzip his trousers and pull his member out. He pushed it against my face, running it across my gagged lips. As he stroked it, I managed to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window: a captive being teased by a throbbing cock, completely submissive. My toes curled with excitement. As he continued stroking himself, he bent down and picked up one of my shoes. Closing his eyes and nearly collapsing, he ejaculated right into one of my favourite authentic Pradas. After he caught his breath, he removed my gag, drool dripping down my chin. “Lick it clean,” he demanded flatly as he forcefully pressed it over my nose and mouth. The insides stank, but I did as I was told and moved my tongue all over the inside of the sole.

Once he looked satisfied, he tossed the shoe onto the desk. He turned around and reached into a backpack that he had brought with him, apparently prepared for what he was about to put me through. A chain leash emerged from the bag and was wrapped around my neck. My hands and feet were untied, and my jacket was removed. I began to speak but my words were quickly muffled as the sock-gag was shoved back into my mouth. He reached into his bag for another accessory as I waited patiently. I’m not sure whether I was frozen with fear or if I simply wanted more. Turning back to me, he momentarily encompassed my bottom lip with his thumb and index finger before shoving a leather hood over my head and securing it.

With that, he yanked the leash as I was forced to all fours. I led him lead me blindly like a dog across the room and towards the staircase in the hallway, dragging me up the stairs without mercy.

Within twenty minutes, I was on my bedroom floor. He had forced me to strip down for him and change into a wetsuit that I had forgotten I owned in the back of my closet. I was now sitting on the bedroom floor on all fours, the leash back around my neck. He stood above me, holding the other end of the leash as he unbuttoned his shirt. He then kicked off his thick, black worker boots to reveal he wasn’t wearing any socks with them. From my position on the floor, the smell was overpowering.

“Time to lick them clean, whore”, he barked down at me. Immediately, he yanked on the leash forcing me face to face with his tops. Eagerly, I began licking his smooth bare feet, moving my tongue in between his toes and underneath. I looked up at my master.  The bulge in his pants obstructed my view of his face. I continued to work at his feet, tasting every inch. I was hard as a rock in my wetsuit and couldn’t help but reach to touch myself through the Lycra. This action upset him and he stepped away.

“This is not about you pleasure,” he stated.
“Yes, sir,” I whimpered in reply.

The leather hood was pushed back over my head and everything went black. I could feel his tight grip on the leash as he led me around the room. Suddenly, I felt a hard spanking from what felt like a riding crop smacking against my bare soles. I moaned out of pain loudly. “Whores must obey,” he muttered with another slap. I flinched uncontrollably with each beating. “Whores must behave,” he muttered again. The bastinado continued for what felt like forever. Finally, I heard the riding crop drop to the floor as I panted uncontrollably.

He lifted me up and tossed me onto the bed.

Still blind, I was forced onto my stomach and felt ropes wrapping around my wrists, ankles, and torso. Once hogtied on my bed, he took the extra step to tie my toes tightly together. The hood was removed and once again I was faced with my master.

“What now, sir?”
In response, a large ball-gag was shoved into my mouth and fastened securely.
“Mmmph,” I whimpered.

Straddling my back, so that his ass is facing the back of my head, he grabbed my bare feet and began to passionately suck my toes again. I bit down on the ball-gag.
“You like that, whore?”
“Mm-hmm.”

After several minutes, he turned me onto my side and spooned my hogtied body. One hand covered my gagged mouth while the other rubbed my hard cock through the Lycra. “Come for me, whore,” he requested in a low voice. I squirmed and pleaded through my gag, it was getting to be too much. He wouldn’t give up though. After minutes of resisting, his hand moved faster and faster.

I couldn’t help myself; I blew a load all over myself in my wetsuit.

He untied me, un-gagged me, and pushed me to the floor.
“Strip, whore.”
I did as I was told. Looking down at myself, I saw my own semen all over my chest.

Once naked for my master, he picked me up as well as the ropes and gag and carried me downstairs.  It was now 4:00 in the morning. Still barefoot, he walked out to the front yard to a lamppost my front boulevard.

Standing me upright, he began tying me to the post.
“No sir, please!”

He ignored my pleas.
“Please, sir, anything but – mmph!”

There I stood: Bound, gagged, nude, covered in my own ejaculation, and on display.

He padded me on the cheek.
“Until next time,” he said with a smile as he walked away into the dark. 

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