Julianna Part 2

If I had not seen the letter in Julianna’s own handwriting, I would never have believed it. Perhaps there was a side to her that I had never seen, just as she had been oblivious to my obsession with female domination. I re-read the line where Julianna wrote, “I shall take this opportunity to explore my fantasies, too,” and wondered what she had in mind. I began to tremble when I considered her declaration, “Perhaps you will come to renounce your fantasies once you have experienced the severity of their reality.”

I contemplated what my wife had seen on the computer history file. The things I had told Julianna about were only the tip of the iceberg. The scenarios described and pictured on the websites were even harsher. Some of the things depicted were intriguing, but not necessarily something I wanted to experience in real life. She had seen them and was prepared to explore them, at least some of them. Julianna had warned me that I would be doing things against my will. My fate would be entirely in her hands. I began to question whether I really had the courage to follow through with this pact.

The feeling of grief and helplessness is part of what has always intrigued me about female domination. I did want to be forced to do things against my will, and I welcomed the idea of doing whatever was necessary for Julianna to realize her fantasies. My mind was abuzz with mental images of what it would be like to be totally and unconditionally dominated by Julianna. I tried to picture her inflicting me with some of the cruelest, unspoken indignities-- even the ones that did not appeal to me. I felt a powerful tingling sensation in my genitals and I knew that I needed to “experience the severity” of my darkest desires, to be thoroughly used and humiliated by the woman I love.

When I heard Julianna’s car pull into the driveway, I started tearing off my clothes. I hurried to the door and fell to my knees, just as she had instructed in her letter. When she stepped inside, I kept my head bowed and my eyes on her feet. My wife was wearing her sneakers and white athletic socks, and I suddenly remembered this was the night of her aerobics class. I quickly got down on my knees and elbows and greeted her by repeatedly kissing both of her tennis shoes. I have never been into tennis shoes as a fetish, but was thrilled to be at Julianna’s feet this way.

“Uh, hum,” she cleared her throat after a few moments.

I looked up to see Julianna offering her hand to me. Trembling with a mixture of dread and arousal, I took her hand in mine and kissed it passionately. Then I ceremoniously slipped the wedding band from her finger. I had sealed my fate and would be completely at her disposal for the next week. As she had written, there would be no turning back now.

Julianna looked down at me with a smug grin. Then, without warning, the woman I love slapped my face as hard as she could. She is strong from her regular work outs, and the force of the blow sent me reeling. I could feel her handprint, red and burning, beginning to form on my cheek.

“Was that what you had in mind?” she asked me with an arrogant tone.

“Y-yes, M-mistress,” I managed to stammer, stunned by the power of the slap as well as her audacity. “It was perfect.”

“Good,” she smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. There’s a lot more where that came from.”

Julianna then crooked her finger, beckoning me to follow her. I crawled behind her on my hands and knees into the living room. She sat down on the sofa and made herself comfortable.
"I know that our agreement was that I would start dominating you on Monday,” she said. “But you don’t mind if I start a little early, do you?"

"No, Mistress," I responded, keeping my eyes fixed on her tennis shoe clad feet. “Of course not.”

I was kneeling in front of her, my dick growing in length and girth, wondering what was next. Julianna raised a leg and gently tapped my scrotum with the toe of her tennis shoe, making it bounce up and down. My obvious arousal caused her to giggle.
“So you agree to be my slave from now until the end of your vacation, right?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress,” I confirmed.

“When the week is over, do you promise to forgive me regardless of what I do to you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I agreed.

Julianna did not speak for nearly five minutes, as she sat there and relaxed and considered my compliant form kneeling on the carpet before her. I kept my eyes on her feet, studying every detail of her socks and tennis shoes. I stared at her faded shoestrings and the famous Nike swirl. I noticed her socks and how they fit over her shapely ankles. I examined the dirt on her shoes, making the white leather dark gray in some places, a lighter gray in others. Most of all, I contemplated the beautiful feet inside those shoes.

At last Julianna extended her feet toward me and ordered, "Take off my shoes.”

My hands trembled with excitement as I unlaced Julianna’s tennis shoes and slipped them from her feet. Her socks were damp with perspiration and the sweaty aroma from her feet filled the air. It was a wonderful fragrance to me, one that I had enjoyed in the past while surreptitiously sniffing the insides of Julianna’s shoes.

“So, you like dirty, smelly feet, do you?” Julianna chuckled. “If I had known that, I wouldn’t have bothered to wear perfume all these years. I came straight home from aerobics class and haven't even taken a shower yet. Let’s see how much you like the smell of my feet. Lie on your back.”

As soon as I was in the desires position, my wife rested both her moist, sock-clad feet on my face. Julianna pressed her toes right over my nose. After being encased in those well-worn tennis shoes, the musky aroma of her feet was powerful. The fragrance went strait to my brain, seemed to course through my veins, and straight to my crotch; my erection grew even harder. My wife rubbed her moist, sweaty foot up and down my face and over and over again, and every breath I took was filled with the smell of her dirty, sweaty socks.

“So tell me,” I could hear her voice above me. “How do you like it?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress,” I mumbled into the soles of her feet, “they smell wonderful!”

"They feel really hot and sweaty, and I want you to wash them for me. Maybe you should go get some soap and water," she teased. “Better yet, I want you to bathe my feet with your tongue.”

“Please, Mistress,” I begged her. “Can I please use my tongue on them?”

"If you want to lick them clean, that would be okay, slave,” Julianna chuckled. She sat back and extended her left foot toward me, “You may remove my socks with your teeth.”

Following Julianna’s directions, I carefully bit the material at the toe of her sock and tilted my head back to pull the sock from her foot. It slid off easily and I found myself kneeling there with her sock hanging from my mouth, gazing at my wife’s bare foot. Her toenails were still painted with the red polish I had used during her last pedicure. The polish was slightly chipped, and I could see that she would need a new pedicure very soon. A few tiny pieces of moist sock lint stuck to the sole of her foot and were wedged between her toes. She then presented me with her right foot, and I removed that sock with the same technique.

“Go ahead and lick my sweaty feet, slave,” Julianna laughed as she wiggled her sweaty toes in my face.

Without hesitation, I began running tongue up and down her foot from heel to toe. The taste of her feet was incredible, a racy, brackish taste that fueled my lust. Julianna beamed down at me, amused by my enthusiasm in lapping the sweat and moist sock lint from between her toes. I fervently ran my tongue over her insteps and ankles, and ardently sucked her toes. The realization swept over me that I was actually groveling before my wife, demonstrating my servility to her by bathing her hot, tired, dirty, sweaty feet with my tongue. From her sighs of rapture, I knew that she was taking great pleasure in my servitude and her dominance. Things between us would never be the same.

“That’s enough for now," she told me after half an hour of foot worship. “Now, come up here. I’ve got something else for you to do.”
I knelt directly before Julianna and my face was even with her chest. I had been so engrossed in worshiping my wife’s beautiful feet that, until now, I failed to notice that she had removed her sports bra, and then tossed it to the floor. Her 38DDD breasts were unleashed and fully exposed. With a smile, Julianna raised her arms and placed her hands behind her head.

“Lick my armpits,” she commanded.

I was completely taken aback by her demand. The idea of doing such a thing had never even crossed my mind. Nonetheless, I crawled my way closer to Julianna and began running my tongue over her underarm. The aroma of her armpit was strong and its flavor was slightly briny, similar to that of her feet. I intrigued by the texture of her underarm; the skin was extremely soft, but slightly bristly. I was tentative at first, but soon found myself performing the task with passion.

After I had cleaned both of Julianna’s armpits, she placed her right hand behind my head and guided my face to the sweaty underside of her breasts. My face was engulfed beneath her massive mammaries as I lapped up her perspiration. To my great delight, Julianna let me knead and massage her massive globes. I kissed and lick every inch them and took her engorged nipples into my mouth, suckling like a baby. My wife’s hands ran through my hair and pulled me even more firmly against her bosom.

"That's right,” Julianna cooed, “Suck your Mistress’s big tits.”

A few minutes later, my wife stood up and pulled her shorts down over her curvaceous hips. Down her shapely legs they fell, gathering in a heap around her ankles. Julianna kicked them off and settled back down onto the sofa. My wife opened her legs, showing me her pussy.

“Now, get me off!” she demanded.

Julianna threw her legs of my shoulders, then laid back to enjoy my ministrations. The aroma wafting from her unwashed crotch was incredibly strong and intoxicating; and she had never tasted so delicious. I licked her like a madman, running my tongue up and down her labia, rolling it around her clit.

“Suck me, dammit!” Julianna grunted hoarsely. “Suck my fucking clit!”
Grasping my head with both hands, my wife started thrust her hips and grind her crotch into my face as she approached orgasm. I was sucking Julianna’s clit for all I was worth. My face was flooded by her juices, and I was thrilled to be sexually used by her; my wife had never been so aggressive.

"Oh, yes...yes…, " she moaned. “Oooooooh."

Julianna just sat there for a few minutes, resting, as I caught my breath. Then she rose to her feet and turned her back to me.
“Now, kiss my ass,” she demanded.

I crawled my way to Julianna on my hands and knees and, began kissing the luscious cheeks of her ass again and again. My wife looked down over her shoulder at me with an arrogant smirk as I repeatedly planted kisses on her ass.

“Okay, here comes the best part,” Julianna announced.

My wife reached back with both hands and opened the cheeks of her ass, revealing her fragrant ass hole. She thrust her buttocks towards me and her earthy aroma filled the air.

“That’s right, slave,” she laughed. “Now, you’re going to lick my ass.”

I unhesitatingly positioned my face between her globes of flesh and repeatedly ran my tongue up the length of her sweaty ass crack. This was a first for both of us, although I had often fantasized about being used this way. The powerful scent and bittersweet flavor were nearly overpowering at first, but I quickly began to relish the experience and tongued the crack of Julianna’s ass with ever increasing passion. From her oohs and ahs, I knew my wife was taking great pleasure in the experience, too. I have no doubt that she achieved orgasm.

“Now, come with me to the bathroom, slave,” Julianna smiled coyly when she finally stepped away from my face.

I followed behind her on my hands and knees, and could only imagine what she planned next. My wife had indicated that I would be serving her in the bathroom, and heart was racing as I determined that she was going to fulfill my golden shower fantasy.

“I am going to take a shower,” Julianna informed me, “And you may watch me.”

As she pulled back the shower curtain, Julianna chuckled, obviously aware of my unfulfilled anticipation. I knelt there obediently on the linoleum floor and watched my wife take a shower. After all that had happened this evening and now watching Julianna’s shapely, nude figure under the spray of a nice, hot shower, my cock was hard and throbbing with desire. When my wife stepped out of the shower, I dutifully dried her with a towel.

Following Julianna to the bedroom, I now anticipated the sexual release I desperately needed. My balls were aching with desire.”

"You’ll be sleeping on the floor at the foot my bed,” she announced. “You can get a pillow and blanket out of the closet.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I concurred, realizing that she was dead serious about being sexually selfish.

“This is just the beginning, sweetie,” Julianna told me as she climbed into bed. “I am really going to enjoy myself this week. I hope you do, too.”

Feeling dejected, I dropped my bedding on the floor. If my wife detected my frustration, she did not acknowledge it. Although suffering denial was a fantasy of mine, I must admit that Julianna had warned me-- “Perhaps you will come to renounce your fantasies once you have experienced the severity of their reality.” She turned off the lamp on the nightstand.

“Goodnight, slave,” came her voice through the darkness.

“Goodnight, Mistress,” countered.

A few moments later, she added, “And don't jack off either."

It was difficult for me to sleep. I had a serious case of blue balls. My neglected cock was hard and my balls were blue with denial. I needed relief. Once I had determined that Julianna had fallen asleep, I could not resist the temptation. I stroked my dick and within seconds, I ejaculated all over the blanket. Before long, I drifted off to sleep.

To be continued….