#Facesitting

It had been nearly two years since I first started chatting with Ethan. Our conversations were sporadic at first, little sparks of connection flickering across the digital void. Back then, I lived halfway across the world, and meeting in person wasn't even a possibility. But life has a way of shifting plans - six months ago, I relocated to his city, settling into a new rhythm. Over time, our chats grew deeper, more intentional. We explored our desires, tested boundaries, and discovered just how well we clicked in this dance of dominance and submission. The talks were always easy, playful, and often steamy. We exchanged real details - names, photos, little proofs of authenticity - building trust brick by brick. Eventually, we agreed to meet face-to-face, somewhere public for my peace of mind. Coffee turned into hours of conversation, laughter, and a chemistry that hummed between us. He was earnest, kind, and surprisingly grounded. I liked him. A lot. So, we planned our first real session. This was my first plunge into dominance in the flesh. I'd dabbled online - enough to know it set my pulse racing - and Ethan, with his years of experience as a submissive, promised to guide me where he could. "Take your time, " he'd said. "I've got you." His reassurance loosened the knot of nerves in my chest. We skipped the preamble of a public meetup this time, heading straight to a boutique hotel downtown. When I arrived, he was already there, lingering near the entrance, his dark brown hair catching the light. He approached, shy but eager, and I leaned in, brushing a kiss against his cheek. Then, close to his ear, I whispered, "Kneel. Kiss my shoes." His body stiffened, eyes darting around the empty lobby. No one was watching. Slowly, he sank to his knees, pressing his lips to the leather of my ankle boots with a reverence that sent a thrill up my spine. As he moved to lift his head, I planted my foot on it, pinning him down. The pressure was firm, deliberate, and I savored the sight of him humbled beneath me. His breath hitched - nervous, maybe, about being seen - but he softened into it, surrendering bit by bit. "You lift your head when I say so, not before. Got it? " My voice was steady, commanding. "Yes, Mistress, " he murmured. I pressed harder, grinding the sole against his scalp. "This is your punishment for hesitating. When I give an order, you obey. No second-guessing. Understood? " "Yes, Mistress. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." His tone was thick with remorse. "Up now. Let's go." I released him and strode toward the elevator, not looking back. He scrambled to follow, and when I glanced at him, I caught the flush creeping up his neck, the bulge straining against his jeans. His eyes dropped when they met mine, and I smirked, heat pooling low in my belly. In the room - a sleek space with a plush sofa and a king-sized bed - I didn't waste time. "Strip. Kneel in the center." He moved fast, shedding his clothes and dropping to his knees, gaze fixed on the floor. I paced around him, taking him in. Ethan was striking - broad shoulders from hours at the gym, lean muscle without the bulk, dark hair swept back, and hazel eyes that hinted at a quiet confidence. No one would guess this poised, handsome man craved submission behind closed doors. His arousal was obvious, standing proud, but I wasn't here for that - not yet. "Legs apart, hands behind your back, eyes down, " I instructed. "This is how I want you when you're with me. Clear? " "Yes, Mistress, " he said, adjusting instantly. His voice trembled slightly, desire lacing every syllable. "And no touching yourself or cum without my say so. Your pleasure belongs to me now. Understood? " "Yes, Mistress. At your command." I stepped closer, tilting his chin up with my fingers. His skin was warm, and I traced a slow path across his forehead, down his cheekbones, lingering at his lips. A soft moan escaped him. I slipped a finger into his mouth, and he sucked eagerly, eyes fluttering shut. Two fingers, then three, and I worked them in and out, watching him melt. Then, abruptly, I pulled them free - and slapped him hard across the face. His eyes snapped open, startled. I hit him again, then again, a series of sharp, stinging blows - ten in all, just because I felt like it. "Problem with me slapping you, pup? " I asked, voice cool. "No, Mistress. You're in charge. Do whatever you want with me." "Good boy." I delivered three more slaps, hard enough to rock him sideways. His cheeks blazed red, and I was buzzing with excitement. I held my hands to his lips. "Kiss them. Thank the hands that discipline you." "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you so much. It's an honor." He kissed each knuckle with fervor, his breath ragged, a slick puddle forming beneath him. "Sometimes I'll slap you to punish you, sometimes just because I feel like it. And you'll take it because you want to please me, don't you, pup? " "Yes, Mistress. Anything you want. I just want to make you happy." I grinned, ruffling his hair like he was a pet. "Good boy." He beamed, despite the sting. "Follow me to the sofa. Crawl." "Yes, Mistress." I sank into the cushions, watching him shuffle across the floor on all fours. He stopped at my feet, head bowed, waiting. I let the silence stretch, relishing his submission, the power coursing through me. He didn't flinch, didn't question - just waited. "Kiss my shoes again. Then lick them clean. They're a little dirty." "Yes, Mistress. Thank you, thank you! " He dove in, lips brushing the leather before his tongue darted out, lapping at every inch. I leaned back, smug, as he worked. My boots gleamed under his care, and I lifted one, pressing the sole to his mouth. He licked without hesitation, groaning softly. I dragged the tread across his tongue, using him like a rag, then smeared it over his face. His moans grew louder, desperate. "Please, Mistress, " he gasped. "Please let me touch myself. I'm losing it." "No, pup. Not yet. Keep licking." My tone brooked no argument. "Please, I'm begging you..." He licked harder, voice breaking as I pressed my sole against his cheek. "Earn it, and maybe I'll consider it. No promises." "As you command, Mistress, " he said, resigned, moving to the other boot. A small pool of pre-cum glistened on the floor. I stepped in it, smearing it across his face. "Clean it up." He obeyed, tongue sweeping the mess with devotion. I rested my foot on his head as he worked, pinning him down until the floor shone. Then I yanked his hair, spat in his face, and watched him shudder. "Go wash your mouth and face with soap, you filthy mutt. I'm going to use you, and I want you spotless. Move." He bolted to the bathroom, returning damp and kneeling before me. I grabbed his hair, dragging his face between my thighs. He went limp, dazed, utterly mine. I could feel how soaked I was, and it fueled me. "See how wet you've made me, slut? " "Yes, Mistress. Please, let me taste you. Please..." I tugged his hair harder, slapping him repeatedly. "You want it that bad? " I rubbed myself against his face, loving his helpless, adoring expression. "Yes, Mistress. I want it so much. Please." Another slap. "Say it again." "Please, Mistress, let me have the honor of pleasing you. I've dreamed of you for so long. I'm begging." "Humiliate yourself more. Bark." "Woof, woof." "Louder." "Woof, woof! " "Crawl around." He did, clumsily eager. "Give me your paw and stick out your tongue." He complied, panting. I was unraveling. "Now take off my shoes and lick my feet. Beg while you do it." He pried off my boots, tongue tracing my soles, my arches, between my toes, pleading all the while. "Please, Mistress, let me please you..." I touched myself, teetering on the edge, his desperation pushing me closer. I shoved my foot in his mouth, silencing his pleas, and we both moaned. Laughing, I pulled it out, smacking his face with it, then offered it back for more licking. He was a wreck, and I was soaked. Finally, I stood, shoving him back with my foot. I hiked up my skirt, revealing lace panties, and beckoned him closer. "Smell me. Get used to your Mistress's scent. No licking, no kissing - just smell." He inhaled deeply, eyes glazed, trembling with need. I ground against his face, letting him stew in it, then stepped back. He whined, and I laughed, peeling off the panties. His jaw dropped, hunger etched into every line of his face. I sprawled on the sofa, legs spread. "Come here, pup. Your reward - eat me out." "Thank you, Mistress! Thank you a million times, my Queen! " He dove in, tongue everywhere - lips, clit, deeper - driving me wild. I came hard, gripping his hair, smearing my release across his face. I spat on him, slapped him, then shoved him back down for more. "Hands behind you. I'm using your mouth, your tongue - they're mine now." "Yes, Mistress. All yours. Use me however you want." I rode his face, controlling every move, climaxing again and again - four, maybe five times. He begged to cum, and I denied him, slapping him harder, relishing his frantic devotion. "Lick my feet and thank me for using you." "Thank you, Mistress, for letting me taste you, for using me." He lapped at my feet as I reclined, sated. "Get me wine and a snack, " I ordered. He fetched a bottle of red and some cheese, setting it up neatly. "Now, head on the chair. You're my throne." He positioned himself, face up on the seat, and I settled onto him, eating casually. His breathing was ragged beneath me, and I lifted occasionally to let him gasp, then sank back down. I came twice more, ignoring his muffled pleas. "Please, Mistress, let me cum, " he whimpered. "Beg again." "Please, I'm begging -" I smothered him mid-sentence, laughing. "No. Focus on my pleasure. That's all that matters." "Yes, Mistress." A pause. "Thank you? " I sat harder, grinning. When I finished eating, I sipped wine, scrolling my phone, treating him like furniture. Eventually, I stood. He kissed my feet, murmuring, "Thank you, thank you, " and I softened, stroking his back. Then I kissed him - soft, surprising him. He lit up. "Eat my ass now." He attacked with gusto, tongue relentless, my grip on his hair unyielding. I lost count of my orgasms. When he begged again, I dragged him to the sofa, sat on his face, and said, "Make me come more, and I'll let you." "Thank you, Mistress! " he cried, diving back in. I rode him hard, and when I was ready, I growled, "Come for me, slut." He erupted, and so did I, collapsing onto him. I stayed there, catching my breath, then stood. He dropped to the floor, kissing my feet, thanking me endlessly. I knew then - he was mine.