He didn’t hear from Janelle again until the next 
Friday afternoon.  She rang him on his mobile and 
proposed they go out for dinner that night.

“I’m dying for a steak.  And if I’m in the mood later 
on, I might try some of your tube-steak.”

She said this as casually as she could, but in truth 
she hungered for it.  Not for his willy as such, no – 
she’d encountered bigger ones before, and ones better  
deployed.  To her, his prick was merely a useful 
accessory after the fact.  An accessory to her main 
indulgence, namely his dispatch on a quest of suitable 
challenge and difficulty to his ego. 

They met at the steakhouse she’d nominated.  He was 
already waiting outside, and pecked her chastely on 
the cheek in greeting.  She liked men who made sure 
they always got to a rendezvous before she did.

At a corner table, he managed to remember what had 
been bugging him all week.

“Can you give me some contact details?”

“Why?”

“I missed you.  I’d like to be able to call you up.”

She thought about it, as if this was a situation she 
hadn’t really considered up ‘til now.

“Okay, you can buy me a mobile then.”

“Doesn’t your apartment have a ‘phone?”

“No” she lied.  No way did she want Auntie N. picking 
up her incoming calls.

“We’ll go shopping for one after this.”

“Okay then.”

The waitress appeared, a pretty young college kid who 
proceeded to reel off the “Tonite’s Specials” as if a 
tape recording had just been switched on in her head.

Doug regarded Janelle as she placed her order.  She 
looked nice tonight.  Correction, she looked nice all 
the time.  But especially nice tonight.  Her dark 
complexion glowed in the candlelight, the curve of her 
cheek in profile looked especially well-sculptured, 
and her boobs welled up enticingly at the scooped 
neckline of her black-and-gold dress.

With the waitress gone and her attention free again, 
Janelle woke up to the fact that she was the subject 
of his scrutiny.

“What the fuck you lookin’ at?” she demanded in mock 
aggression.

“That’s a very endearing response to my admiring 
glances, my poppet!”  

“Admire this!”

So saying, she inserted an index finger between her 
full lips and made a mini-drama out of sucking it like 
a cock.

“Another thing I love about you - the way I can just 
take you anywhere!”

She grinned wickedly.

“Stop complainin’ - I know you love it.  Probably got 
a hard-on already!”

He felt her bare foot brush up between his thighs 
under the table and firmly nudge his crotch.  Sure 
enough, it encountered a half-fat.

Her point proven, she withdrew her foot and slipped it 
back in her shoe just in time for salads and garlic 
bread to arrive.

“You can save me that throbbin’ knob for later” she 
murmured, ripping off a chunk of the bread.  She threw 
him a melting look, which contrary-wise he found to be 
more stiffening than melting.

There was another topic that had been bothering him.

“How’d you manage to fall out with your folks?”

A pause while she thought about whether, and how, to 
answer.

“I was unmanageable, period.  They got sick of it, and 
booted me out.”

Silence for a while, until their steaks arrived.  She 
attacked hers with zeal.

“Got sick of what, exactly?” he persisted.

“Me doing drugs” she mumbled while chewing. “Being 
zonked all the time, and stealing anything that wasn’t 
nailed down.“

“Oh dear.”

“Oh dear is right.  I was a mess.”

“So where’d you go after that?”

“I went’n stayed in a sleazy apartment with a bunch of 
guys.”

“How’d that work out?”  He was really having to worm 
this information out of her.

“Well… I thought they were my friends.  Until I passed 
out when drinking with them one night.  I woke up with 
my panties missing, and a river of cum flowing out of 
me.”

He quailed visibly, and felt a sudden loss of 
appetite.  In fact, he felt sick to his stomach.

“You okay, hon?” she asked in concern, seeing how he’d 
suddenly paled.

“I can’t bear to think of you being treated like 
that.”

“Me neither.”

It didn’t stop her popping another chunk of FDA-
certified medium-rare into her mouth, though.

“Did you call the cops?”

“Yeah, right.”  Her tone said it all.

“But that was rape!”

“Certainly I blew my stack at them about it.  They 
claimed I’d consented, though from the condition I was 
in, no way could it be “informed consent”.  But it 
didn’t look like I’d get very far with a complaint.  

“Anyway, that was a side issue.  The main problem, I 
realized, was that I dis-respected myself.  My whole 
situation, y’know, with the drug thing goin’ on, I was 
abusing and wasting myself.  I hadda turn that around 
somehow.”

“You mean … you had to hit rock-bottom before you 
could come up again?”

Only as these words left his lips did it occur to him 
how cliched they sounded.  Really, he had no idea.

“Not exactly” she said tactfully. “There’s more to it 
than that, and more to me than that.”

“Like what?”

She looked mostly down at the table as she answered, 
and her words slipped out innocuously, almost too 
casually.

“Like … one thing I came to realise, was about the way 
that sex is important to me.  I got particular urges I 
need to satisfy, if I’m to maintain my wellbeing.”

He could pretty accurately guess what she was hinting 
at, but wanted to hear her actually say it.  He’d 
never heard her speak so openly on this particular 
subject before.  Tonight she seemed to be on a roll 
about it, and he felt it was timely to probe deeper.  

“Describe these urges …”

“Don’t play the shrink with me!  You know damn well 
that sex is only sex when I get to dominate a man!”

“Okay okay, you don’t have to draw me a picture!  But 
what are you trying to say - that this somehow stopped 
you turning into a total crack-whore?” 

Janelle had to think again – it was probably the first 
time she’d had to actually articulate the process 
whereby she’d arrived at this particular head-space of 
hers.  It couldn’t be easy.  She speared some salad 
with her fork and munched it, gazing across the room  
while her mind groped for words.

“Best I can explain it is this – I came to know I’d 
have to really get my shit together to achieve the 
kind of relationships I wanted, the kind where I’d be 
well and truly in the driver’s seat.  When you 
dominate a man, you’re responsible for him.  You can’t 
do that unless you’re responsible for yourself first.”

“Is that what I am – dominated?”

“Don’t take it as a put-down.  It’s what makes you so 
very attractive to me, that you have the inner 
strength to place me higher than your own pride …”

He felt himself flushing red.  All his life he’d found 
it hard to accept compliments in good grace.  He 
steered the conversation back onto her.

“So, you got saved by sex?”

“I guess it does sound weird. But when it came to a 
choice between sex or drugs, I suppose you could say I 
chose sex.  Not just any old sex, but good sex exactly 
the way I like it.  So I moved in with Auntie N., and 
cleaned up my act.  Haven’t been near drugs since.”

“You ever get yourself checked for HIV?”

“I got checked for every damn thing, believe me.  
Then, and every six months since.  I’m clean - praise 
the Lord!”

“A bit late for me to be asking, really.”

“You can say that again!”

He felt they were ready for coffee, and flagged the 
waitress.  She cleared their plates at the same time.

Janelle stirred three spoonfuls of sugar into her cup, 
then continued -

“And since we’re on the subject of True Confessions, 
why’d you split from your wife?”

He took his time answering.  Some of those wounds were 
still tender.

“She turned into a greedy bitch.”

“There must have been something nice about her.  
Otherwise you wouldn’t have married her!”

“She had a nice ass.”

“Doug!  Don’t clam up on me!”

“We got married because it was the logical thing to 
do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She was from a good family, I’m from a good family.  
She went to a good school, I went to a good school.  
She had the right sort of friends, I had the same sort 
of friends.  It was inevitable. Our parents were 
thrilled, said we made a good match.”

“The kiss of death, huh? Parents saying that.”

“You got that right.  As a couple we must have looked 
good from the outside, but things never quite gelled 
in the bedroom.”

“She was frigid, or what?”

“She had to come out of the closet, that’s what.  It 
was a long, drawn-out, and very upsetting process.  
Took a long time to admit to herself what she really 
was – in our circles it’s simply not the done thing to 
be one of those.  Kept on changing her mind about it, 
first one way then the other.  Meanwhile I didn’t know 
if I was coming or going, and neither did the poor 
lady she was coming out with.”

“Any kids involved?”

“No, thank Christ.”

“But you said she was a greedy bitch?”

“Oh, she added insult to injury by following that up 
with a messy divorce.  She wanted to continue her 
accustomed lifestyle, yet continue not working for it.  
The lawyers ended up getting more out of that strategy 
than either she or I.”

“And lastly, does she truly have a nice ass?”

“Now that you’ve met her, you be the judge!”

“Not bad, as asses go.  I’d like to paddle it ‘til its 
good and red.”

“I noticed the two of you didn’t exactly hit it off.”

“I’d like to stick my biggest dildo up her butt.”

“Okay, I get the picture.  Anyway, how was your 
steak?”

“Shit-hot.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.  Now, let’s go buy you a phone.”

“Let’s.”

He paid the bill, then they crossed the neon-lit 
street and walked down about half a block to a mall.  
Inside they found a phone shop, and he let her choose 
a mobile of suitably feminine shape and colour.

“Jeepers!” he exclaimed, “It’s only a ‘phone!  The way 
you’re trying them all on and looking in the mirror, 
it’s like you’re buying it to wear, like shoes or 
something!”

“No way is it “only a ‘phone”” she retorted.  “It’s 
the only thing in the world where men boast about how 
small theirs is!”

“Point taken.”

Janelle finally selected a dainty item in lavender 
that glowed green when it rang, and he paid for it.

“Since you mentioned shoes, I wouldn’t mind picking up 
a couple of new pairs while we’re here.”

“I’m glad you don’t have any hang-ups about money.”

“Especially yours.”  She squeezed his backside 
appreciatively as they strolled off in search of a 
shoe shop.

At first they thought the mall didn’t have one, which 
would have been strange, but at last it revealed 
itself on the very upper level, nearly at the end.  

It was a small operation, only one assistant and 
selling only ladies shoes, with a small but eclectic 
selection to choose from.  

Janelle was looking at pumps and comparing a few 
styles, then her gaze fell on the high-leather boots 
section.

“Oooh! Check these out!”

Some were tasteful, some were downright slutty.  Some 
were definitely sensuous with their soft satin finish 
and new leather smell.  Some had zips, and others had 
to be laced in complicated patterns.

“Doug!  Can you help me here?”

Janelle was struggling to lace up the left one, and 
extended her foot for him to pull on the right one.  
He knelt in front of her, and she sat back to let him 
finish the job.

Janelle paraded before the mirror, hiking up her hem 
to show the boots fully along with a portion of sleek 
thigh.

“The other ones, Doug.  C’mon!  Get these off me 
again!”

She sat as he bent to the task of slackening all the 
laces again.  She was sitting a little unladylike now, 
her dress still hiked up, and he could see up between 
her dark-skinned legs to white knickers.  That made it 
hard to concentrate, and she chastised him for taking 
so long.

The sales assistant, who should have been helping, had 
been about to come over to do just that.  A prim and 
smartly dressed white woman of about thirty, she 
instead busied herself a little longer with whatever 
paperwork she had to do beside the cash register.  She 
had one eye on that, and one eye on the couple toying 
with the merchandise.

Janelle was enjoying playing dressing-up games now, 
and was looking for the most outrageous boot styles to 
try on.  Four-inch spike heels, snake-skin, doe-skin 
with zips, it all involved Doug doing each changeover 
as she sat back and let him sneak peeks up her dress.

Finally the assistant came over to them, as Doug was 
struggling to extract Janelle’s foot from a 
particularly clingy black-leather number.  

Nodding in Doug’s direction, the store lady spoke 
directly to Janelle -

“What a great assistant – looks like he’s got a real 
boot fetish!”

This comment from a total stranger was so off-the-wall 
that Doug and Janelle looked at each other and 
momentarily froze.

Doug could see an “Are you thinking what I’m 
thinking?” look in her eyes.  His own eyes said “I 
think I am, and I don’t like it!”

“Yes” Janelle replied at last, speaking slowly and 
distinctly, “as a matter of fact, he’s a real good 
boot-licker.  Aren’t you, Doug?”

The lady gasped in surprise.  She’d said it as a joke, 
and during the ensuing pregnant pause she’d worried 
they were about to take offence.

“Well, carry on!” she said brightly, with relief that 
they weren’t cross with her.  “Don’t let me cramp your 
style!”

“Doug!  Will you lick these boots, please?”

Oh shit.

She had that look in her eye.  The look that said she 
would not be denied.  Whatever it took, he’d have to 
do it.  

It was within the bounds of the agreement they’d 
struck when he first became her love slave.  So far 
he’d been hoping her proclivities could all be 
satisfied within the privacy of his home or office.  
With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realised his 
luck had just run out. 

She extended a leather-clad foot toward him as he 
knelt.  His face was a picture.  He was blushing red-
hot, and looking most embarrassed.  She felt a surge 
of glee at his obvious discomfort.  This would be a 
real test.  This was going to be humiliating for him.  
Was he man enough to rise to this challenge?

The assistant was looking on with interest.  She’d 
never seen anything quite like this before.  Would he 
actually do it?  Right before her very eyes?  It was 
kinda exciting.

Doug bent forward, tenderly lifted the proffered boot, 
and dabbed the fresh new leather around her ankle with 
his tongue.  He pulled away.  The two women could see 
how his saliva had made the leather glisten.

“The whole foot, Doug.  Lick my whole foot.”

He bent again, and spent one or two minutes covering 
the full extent of the boot upper with saliva from toe 
to heel.

They say that three minutes is a long time in a boxing 
ring.  Well, it’s an eternity when you’re being forced 
to lick somebody’s boots while a stranger is watching, 
with every chance that other strangers might walk in 
at any moment!  He had that butterflies-in-the-stomach 
feeling, the adrenaline rush of the classic fight-or-
flight syndrome.

The sales lady spoke again hurriedly.

“We’ve got other styles out in the back room – would 
you rather be seated in there than out here?”

Janelle allowed that she would.  

The lady, now looking rather flushed around her face 
and neck, quickly swung the front door closed and put 
up her “Back in 10 mins” sign.

Doug and Janelle were bustled into the stockroom, 
where two chairs stood against the shelving that held 
all the shoe boxes.  Janelle sat on one, and Doug 
knelt before her.  The lady stood on the other chair 
and reached for a selection of boxes.  While she 
brought them down and opened them, Janelle asked Doug 
quietly – 

“Are you okay with this?”

“No.”

“But you’ll still do it, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s my boy!”

“Try these!” the lady said to Janelle.

Doug had to lace them all the way up to her knee, 
while Janelle criticized him for being so slow about 
it.  When he finished, she commanded “Lick!” and again 
he took about two minutes to cover the full extent of 
the upper from toe to ankle with his tongue.  Didn’t 
taste at all bad, being new leather.  And it smelled 
nice.  But he didn’t like the way the sales lady’s 
eyes bored into him as he prostrated himself before 
them in this way.

“Would you like him to try a pair on you?” Janelle 
asked the other lady sociably.  

She giggled nervously, then nodded vigorously with an 
“I thought you’d never ask!” sort of an expression on 
her face.  She chose a pair of soft calf-skin zip-up 
boots and handed them to Doug.

She had a mid-length black skirt on, so Doug wasn’t 
going to get any glimpses of anything he shouldn’t.  
He did have to remove her sandals first, though.  This 
involved holding her bare foot and touching her ankle 
– an intimate gesture that made Doug look up at 
Janelle to see how she’d react to it.  She urged him 
on with a curt nod.

Slipping the boots on up to her knees, he had to 
smooth the soft leather out against her legs before 
the zips would go up.  Finished, he sat back.  The 
sales assistant waited expectantly.

“Lick!” said Janelle.

Doug lifted one of her feet and bent her leg out 
straight from her knee. He spent a good two minutes 
repeating his salivary functions on these boots as 
well.  He glanced up at her a couple of times, and 
found her staring at him intently.  He could see her 
chest rising and falling, and her breathing seemed a 
tad ragged.

He finished with that boot, and put her foot down.

“Give him the command” Janelle suggested sotto 
voce,”Go on!”

The sales lady intoned quietly but firmly, “Lick the 
other one!”

He complied, and did a repeat performance on that 
foot.  The two of them were so quiet as he did so, you 
could have heard a pin drop.

“My turn again!” said Janelle, and Doug had to fit her 
with another style of boots, then cover its foot all 
over with his tongue.  He was getting a bit fatigued 
now by so much licking.

The sales lady was fidgeting about in her seat the 
whole time, and seemed unable to wait until it was her 
turn again.  When finished with Janelle, he had to go 
back and service the lady’s boots a second time.  
Warming to her role, she gave him instructions and 
corrected his technique a few times.

The atmosphere was by now very charged, with the sales 
lady getting quite turned on by the experience of 
being able to issue Doug with boot-licking orders.  
But trust Janelle to think of a way to up the ante 
even further!

“I can tell you’re enjoying this” she said to the 
sales lady, “and before we go I’d like to let you do 
something truly memorable.  Is there anything else 
you’ve always wanted to command a man to do?  Now’s 
your chance!”

Doug wondered with apprehension what it might be.  
Flogging?  Being ridden like a horse?  Would he have 
to drink her pee?

But she said, after a time “My mind’s gone blank.  I 
wish I could think of something, but I can’t!” 

So Janelle came up with a fitting finale.

“Doug!  I want you to masturbate for the lady!”

Oh shit, and double-shit!

The idea of indulging them in a little leather 
pantomime with the boots was something he could just 
about handle, and he’d reckoned on getting out of 
there with his pride and clothing more-or-less intact.  
But …  this? 

Anyway, he didn’t think he could.  He certainly didn’t 
have a hard-on.

“Get your tackle out!”

The sales lady was even more interested in this 
development.  She was so excited she was scarcely 
daring to breathe!

To Doug, it was just too much! He considered refusing.  
On the other hand, Jannelle was on record as firmly 
saying that any breach of their love-slave agreement 
would result in her never seeing him again.  He didn’t 
want that. But how serious would she be about 
enforcing this clause?

From the steely look now in her eye, he had to 
conclude “very serious.” Her glare simply stared him 
down.

Doug unzipped, and his cock hung limply out of his 
fly.  

“Pathetic!  Are you doing that on purpose?  Wait - I 
know what will get you hard – it never fails.  You 
can’t resist me!”

Janelle stepped behind Doug and reached her hands 
around to his chest.  Through his shirt she delicately 
raked her nails across both his nipples.

Oh fuck!

It was true, this was something he couldn’t resist.  
Whenever she did that to him, he always got a hard-on 
whether he liked it or not.  Two yards in front of 
him, the sales lady looked down at his stiffening 
prick with amazement, her eyes as round as saucers.

Janelle reached a hand down and encircled his prick to 
check its turgor pressure.  She declared it ready for 
action.

“Jack off!” she commanded.

He did so, eyes upon the sales lady, looking her up 
and down for inspiration, admiring peaks in her blouse 
that represented quality rather than quantity, 
regarding the slutty leather boots that still extended 
incongruously below her prim and proper black skirt, 
while Janelle leaned her breasts against his back,  
tickling and tweaking his nipples with her nails.

The lady felt his lustful gaze ranging over her body 
and, despite the “armour” of being fully clothed, 
decided she didn’t like it. 

“Don’t look at me!” she snapped, cheeks enflamed with 
two red spots, “Look down at the floor!”

He did so and closed his eyes altogether, the better 
to concentrate on the stimulation Janelle was giving 
to his nipples.

“You may give him the command to cum!” Janelle 
chivalrously informed her host.

That snapped her into action.

“Omigod!  He’s going to cum!  Right here in the store!  
Omigod, it’ll make a mess!  Wait, I’ve got to get 
something!”

But the best she could do in the time available was 
pick up a stray boot and hold it in front of her, as a 
slender shield against the deluge she thought might 
issue forth in her direction.

“I command you to cum!” she said in querulous voice.

Too bad lady, I is a’cummin’ anyway, Doug thought to 
himself as Janelle’s ministrations to his nipples 
finally sent him over the edge.

He shot forcefully and accurately at the boot being 
held before him, and about ninety percent of it hit 
home.  Big spatters and globules covered about half of 
its shin portion, and began running down onto the foot 
part.  The sales lady held it gingerly, as if it might 
explode.

Janelle stepped forward and took it from her.

“Doug, you may lick this clean now.”

One thing he’d had to get used to in recent times was 
the taste of his own cum.  Though usually it was 
mingled in with the taste of Janelle’s used pussy, not 
with the taste of brand-new leather.

The sales lady was goggling at this latest depravity.  

But the very last item in Janelle’s game-plan would 
literally become the climax of the entire evening.

“Doug!  Get down on your knees!”

He did, and was at once confronted by his beloved at 
very close quarters with her skirt up and her knickers 
down.  With her dress bunched in one hand, her other 
clutched at the back of his head.  He found his face 
suddenly and most violently thrust against her sparse 
crinkly pubes.  

He knew precisely what she wanted, and where she 
wanted it.  Up so close and extremely personal, he’d 
no choice but to comply.  

“I’m sorry!” she gasped at the sales lady, “I can’t 
lend him to you!  I’ve forbade him having intimacy 
with anyone but me!”

“S’alright” came the strained reply, “I’m married, and 
I love my husband very much!”

With his tongue lashing away at the muskiness in the 
confined space at the tops of her thighs, Doug soon 
heard the familiar guttural sounds in Janelle’s throat 
that showed matters were coming to a head.  

The sales lady had all this while been itching to play 
with herself, but modesty had prevented her doing any 
such thing for so long as Doug was able to see.  Now 
that his face was well and truly buried in Janelle’s 
crutch, she seized the opportunity to sit back in a 
chair with her legs spread wide, her own skirt hoisted 
up around her hips.  She pulled aside the gusset of 
her sensible cotton panties and dug her fingers in 
along her slit in frantic circular motions.  She had a 
pretty pink flower-like pussy, with very little in the 
way of pubic hair. It was not long before she was 
moaning and groaning in a release of pent-up ecstasy.  

The sight of her pussy and her passion was too much 
for Janelle, who went over the edge in a big way.  
Doug hoped he wouldn’t need to have his head 
surgically removed from her insides, so hard did she 
cram his face against her fiery sex and hump his nose 
with her pelvis.

Nobody spoke for about half a minute after the tremors 
had subsided.  Then Janelle broke into the sales 
lady’s post-orgasmic reverie.

“I’ll take them.”

“What?”

“That pair - the soft Italian ones, next to your 
chair.”

While swiping Doug’s credit card, the lady spoke again 
to Janelle.

“Would you mind calling me on this number sometime?”

She slid a business card toward Janelle, who read the 
name before putting it in her handbag.

The lady blushed as she continued –

“I … I’ll … need to talk to you, privately, about … 
about … y’know …”

“How best to dominate your husband?”

“Yes, please.”

Janelle smiled at her warmly.

“Susan, I’ll be glad to share anything I know on the 
subject.”





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