While at a newsstand the other day, I flipped through a copy of Penthouse Letters. I was pleasantly surprised to find a “Domination and Discipline” section, and I bought a copy of the magazine right away. My recent experience at work fits right in.
I am a divorced, thirty-five-year-old male who works in a large office complex. An executive secretary was recently transferred in from another large city. Suzanne is in her late forties and divorced. Her five-nine frame, long brown hair, and large 38D breasts immediately caught my eye.
Although I do not work in her department, I found myself making repeated excuses just to talk to her. Her response was always cool and aloof. Finally I got the nerve to ask her to lunch. She declined and told me directly that she was not interested. I guess I was not surprised. All the men in the office had been drooling over her since she arrived, and besides, I had never had any luck with older women.
Four months later I left the office at about seven. In the parking garage, I found Suzanne at her car, which would not start. I offered her a ride home, and she reluctantly and coolly accepted. I tried to make small talk on the way, but she just glared at me as if I was a child.
When we reached her condo, I asked if I could come up for a drink. This really upset her. She turned to face me and in no uncertain terms stated that men do not ask for such a privilege, they only receive permission. Suzanne went on to say that I should quit pestering her. She only enjoyed men who would go out of their way to please her, and she said I just didn’t look like the type.
I had always been dumbstruck by her beauty, but now I found myself turned on by her commanding tone. I said that I would go out of my way to please her, to which she just laughed. “Ring my apartment bell tomorrow night at eight, not one minute earlier or later.” With this she left the car.
I sat in disbelief. I did not know what was going on, but I did know that my dick was rock-hard.
The next day at work she ignored me. I found myself at her apartment slightly early. I stared at my watch and, exactly at eight, rang the buzzer. “Come up, Don,” the disembodied voice intoned.
When she opened the door, I stood gawking at her. She was wearing a skintight dark blue dress, blue hose, and high heels. “Come in,” she said.
I sat on the sofa and she sat in an armchair facing me. “Don,” she said, “I am a very fussy person and I hope that you have not wasted my time tonight. We must understand each other. I never raise my voice or become upset, but when I ask something of you, I expect an immediate response. Of course, you said that you would go out of your way to please me. Is this true, Don?”
“Yes,” I answered, and then she cut me off.
“If you need to talk, I will let you know. The bar is in the corner; I’ll have a bourbon over ice.” I walked over to the bar, mixing us both a drink. When I returned, she took her drink and asked, “Who offered you a drink?” I was fumbling for words when she instructed me to pour the extra drink down the sink, which I dutifully did.
“Come here, Don.” I walked over to the armchair and looked at her. I felt like a child who had just been scolded. “Don, do you still want to please me?”
“Yes,” I said. She looked me right in the eye and said, “Kneel.” Drunk with her beauty, I knelt at her feet. Slowly she crossed her legs and instructed me to remove her extended shoe. “Do not lay it down, Don. Stand it up properly.” For the next hour or so, I massaged her feet under her careful direction. Finally she rose from the chair. “If you choose to continue, I will see you next Tuesday at eight,” and with that she left the room. There I was, kneeling at her chair, mystified. I did not understand, but my cock was rock-hard. I stood and left.
The next week at work, she acted as if I did not exist. Still, I could not wait for Tuesday night. At the appointed time, I rang the buzzer. “Come up, Don.”
This time she wore a very low-cut dress. Also, she wore no hose, but her tanned legs looked outstanding. When I stood in the doorway awestruck, she stated that if I found the dress too distracting, I could leave. I dumbly shook my head. “Have a seat on the sofa, Don.” Again, she sat across from me.
“Don, if I ask you to do something for me, will you do it?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, if you will do what I say, does that mean you are obedient to me?”
“I don’t know,” I responded. “I never thought about it.”
“Yes or no, Don?” she snapped.
I lowered my head slightly and murmured, “Yes.”
“Well then, say it. Say that you will be obedient to me.” I heard myself saying, “I will be obedient to you.”
“Very good, Don.” She smiled. “Bring me a drink.”
When I returned she instructed me to go to the bathroom and come back naked. I hesitated momentarily and she said that if I did not do as she said, I could leave immediately. Soon, I stood in front of her naked. “Kneel, and hurry about it,” she commanded.
I knelt and my cock started to stiffen. She smiled and looked very pleased. I removed her shoe and carefully stood it upright. As I massaged her feet, she asked, “Would you like to see me naked, Don?”
“Oh, yes,” I replied eagerly.
She laughed and said, “That is something that you must earn. Kiss my feet.” In no time, I was licking and kissing every inch of her feet. This seemed to excite her immensely. I did not think that I could get any hotter at this point. Finally she instructed me to replace her heels and to move slightly away from her, still on my knees.
“Don, do you remember what you said earlier?”
“Yes, Suzanne, I do.”
“Very well. Masturbate for me.” When I hesitated, she spoke in a very commanding voice. “When I speak to you, you do as you are told immediately. Let’s go, pump that cock and fill your hand with come.”
I began to beat off furiously. I wanted so badly to please her. My humiliation, combined with her beauty, really sent me soaring, and I soon came in my hand. “Very good, Don. Very good indeed. Now crawl toward me.” I moved closer to the armchair. She instructed me to show her my come-filled hand. I obeyed, seeking her approval. “Well, Don, you will have to learn to come more. There is hardly anything there for you to eat!”
With that she stood. “We have had our fun, Don. If you choose, I will see you next week at eight. However, do not show up if you are not prepared to obey. You must demonstrate total obedience to me. If you are not willing to do exactly what I say, when I say it, I have no interest in you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said immediately.
“Also, from now on you are not to have any sex unless I allow it. Not even with your hand!” She laughed and walked into the other room, closing the door behind her.
There I knelt, my hand filled with come. I cleaned up and left. I could not sleep that night, I felt so humiliated. My cock was made rock-hard with just the thought of the night’s exploits.
She ignored me all week, but all I could do was think about her. I was constantly hard, but for some reason I did not want to have any sex without her. I was totally captivated with her. Would I go back? What did she mean about eating my come?
When I rang the buzzer at eight, I knew what the answer would be. “Come up, Don.”
She was wearing a red halter, a short, skintight skirt, red hose, and high heels. The view of her tits nearly made me pass out.
We began our ritual, sitting across from each other. “Don, is there something you want to tell me?” I knew the answer by the look on her face.
“Yes, Suzanne. I want to be obedient to you.”
“Very good, Don, you are learning well. However, from now on you will address me as Miss Suzanne.”
“Yes, Miss Suzanne,” I said.
“Very good, Don. I’ll have my drink now. Return naked with it.” When I walked back into the room naked, carrying her drink, she smiled and ordered me to kneel.
As I massaged her feet, she asked, “Did you come this week, Don?”
“No,” I said.
“Very good. Would you like to come tonight?”
“Oh, yes, Miss Suzanne.” She just laughed.
When I finished her massage, she instructed me to put her heels back on her feet and to sit back on the floor, away from the armchair. She stood and spun around. “Do you like my body, Don?”
“Oh, yes, Miss Suzanne.” She looked hot and my cock was on fire. She asked me if I would like to hold her breasts. “Oh, yes, Miss Suzanne,” I literally yelled back.
“You’ll have to work for it,” was all she said.
She walked toward me. “Kiss my foot, Don.” I bowed and kissed her shoe. “Lick it clean,” she said, and I did as instructed. “You lick very well, Don. Would you like to lick my ass?”
“Oh, yes!” I wanted to do anything I could to touch her.
“Well, Don, I’ll trade you. I’ll let you lick my ass if you eat your come for me. Are you interested?” I hesitated. “You will eat your come or leave immediately. Now what will it be?”
“I’ll stay,” I responded.
“Good boy.” She smiled. She seemed very excited. She loosened her skirt and it fell to the floor. Standing before me, garters, hose, heels and halter, her pussy stared me right in the face.
“Don, your cock is dripping. You know what to do, don’t you?” With my finger I rubbed the come off the head of my cock. Without thinking, I placed the finger in my mouth. “Very good, Don. You are going to make a fine little whore. Now come here and lick my ass. Touch me only with your tongue.” She leaned over the armchair and I raced on my knees to her. I began kissing and licking her ass. “Come on, Don, you know what I want. Show me the whore that you are. Fuck my asshole with your tongue,” she commanded. I tongued her wildly. She began to rub her pussy and soon exploded into orgasm. I licked her pliant asshole until she instructed me to stop.
She dropped down onto the chair. “Not bad,” she said with a grin on her face. “We’ll have to teach you how to worship asshole. Now, Don, I’m going to hold out my hand and count to ten. When I reach ten, you will fill my hand with your come. If you fail me, you will leave for good.” She held out her hand and I pumped wildly. I didn’t want to leave. On ten, I filled her hand. I had never come more in my life.
“Beg for it,” she demanded as she held her hand up.
“Please, Miss Suzanne, let me eat my come for you. Let me show you the whore that I am.”
“Eat slowly, Don,” and she held her hand to my lips. Slowly, I licked her hand clean.
“Good little whore. I will see you next week,” she said.
These events happened over a year ago, and to this day, every Tuesday night, I do whatever it takes to please Miss Suzanne. We have never actually had intercourse in the conventional sense. The closest we have come is when she straps on a dildo to fuck me. According to Suzanne, good little whores constantly need a good fucking. I agree. I beg for it. Also, I have yet to hold Miss Suzanne’s naked breasts, but I’ll let you know when I do.
—D.B., Chicago, Illinois