Learning His Place - Part Five by Molly Sands

Author:Molly Sands [Sands, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Venus
Published: 2021-10-18T04:00:00+00:00

SHE WAS sitting in an armchair drinking wine and watching television when he came into the sitting-room. Without taking her eyes from the screen, she held out her hand for the crop which he handed to her obediently. Immediately, and again without looking at him, she tapped her ankle with the crop to indicate that he was to lie down at her feet. Experiencing the lovely drowning feeling he’d come to crave, he instantly obeyed, lying at her feet and sighing with pleasure when she put her sandalled feet on his back, using him as her footstool.

‘I’ll deal with you when I’m ready,’ she said, continuing to watch television.

He’d lain down facing her so he couldn’t see the TV screen but he’d glimpsed Billy Bob Thornton’s face when he’d come into the room and he knew she was watching the drama series ‘Goliath.’ Lying under her feet, he felt a sting of loss. Before becoming her slave, he’d enjoyed the first two series of ‘Goliath’ very much, and had watched them with Laura, cuddled up on the couch with her, sharing a bottle of wine. That had only been a few weeks ago, but how his life had changed. He’d always enjoyed deferring to Laura, and letting her take the lead in bed, but he’d never dreamed he’d fall so far or so deeply under her spell. Had he always wanted this? Had Laura? Were they living according to their true natures, or had sex made them into its puppets? Had they sacrificed a kind and human love for a dark and savage passion more likely to destroy than sustain them? Gazing up at her incomparable legs and the soft hem of her dress draped across her thighs, he ceased caring about their perverse sexuality, and gave himself up to its irresistible power. Glimpsing the riding-crop lying across her lap, he felt a surge of dread that fuelled his submissive arousal. Soon she would lash his bare flesh with the crop and he’d do nothing to stop her. In fact he’d welcome it, and find in the pain and degradation a joy strong enough to bind him to his new life as a slave and cuckold. He’d even thank her for beating him — he wouldn’t be able to stop himself — and kiss the tip of her crop in gratitude such was the depth of his subjugation.

He didn’t know how long he lay at her feet listening to the drone of the television and gazing up adoringly at her legs. Every now and then she’d adjust her feet, digging her heels into his back, the pain turning sweetly to pleasure, and deepening his submissive trance. Trapped under her feet with his face and stomach pressed into the carpet, he grew fiercely erect in his panties, never forgetting that they were the pair she’d worn when she’d fucked John Garra, and that their slick dampness had been caused by his rival’s semen leaking from her lovely, faithless cunt. But he

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