Sinister Intent

Continued from: Difficult Choices

After the devastating kick to the scrotum of poor, Paul, he was helped into a bondage chair as previously described. The chair was designed for maximum access for follow-up kicks, only this time, Miss Cassandra was swapping out her little runners for heavy Doc Martins. Here's the rest of the story, leading up to the Doc Martin's being worn by Cassie.  

As Miss Cassandra settled into her throne of a chair, her gaze remained fixed on Paul's helpless form, her dominance radiating like an aura. With unhurried movements, she began to unlace and remove her hot running shoes. 

The pads of Cassie's socked-feet came to rest on the floor, leaving behind a humid little outline of their shape - a temporary impression created by the perspiration in her socks. The moisture-kissed imprints glimmered against the floor, creating ten little toe-prints beneath her feet. 

Tantalizingly slow, she began to roll the sweaty socks off her feet, Miss Cassandra's toes, adorned with two silver rings, emerged like polished jewels. Paul gasped in his bound state, witnessing her bare feet for the first time. 

Miss Cassandra lifted one of her discarded socks to his nose, the damp fabric wafting its beautiful aroma into his nostrils. "Breathe deeply, Paul," she commanded, her voice low and husky. The scent of her perspiration and the faint tang of vanilla lotion enveloped him, temporarily erasing the memory of his devastating ball-kick. 

Paul's senses reeled, his face flushing as he inhaled the heady fragrance of Cassie's sock. His imagination began to run wild, with fantasies of worshipping those magnificent feet, and despite the earlier kick to his scrotum, his erection began to grow more turgid by the second.

Miss Cassandra's gaze flickered downward, her expression twisting in disgust as she beheld the evidence of his arousal. "How dare you," she spat, her voice cold with disdain. "Your erection is offensive to me and how dare you respond so crudely, to something as simple as my sock!" She mashed the cotton sock into his mouth, to muffle his screams of what was coming next. 

Without hesitation, her bare foot swept upward, striking his dangling balls with the top of her toes. The blow landed with precision, Paul's bound form jerked in response, his face contorting in pain and humiliation. 

Amidst the agony of Paul's helplessness, Cassandra did not let up on her psychological torment, by offering the silly male yet another deal. 

"If we can get that thing limp again, limp enough to return it to its rightful confinement within the chastity cage - I'll let you worship my bare feet with your mouth, Paul." 

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he gazed up at Miss Cassandra, his face a picture of pitiful supplication. "P-please, Ma'am...kick me again. Harder, if need be, to help me get limp for the cage." 

With deliberate purpose, she raised her foot once more, the toes flexing in preparation for the coming blow. Paul braced himself, clenching every muscle and hoping his penis goes flaccid quickly. With a series of measured blows, Miss Cassandra had finally succeeded in deflating his offensive erection, restoring the chastity cage to its rightful place. He was unshackled from the bondage chair, and collapsed to his knees before Cassie's bare feet.

Miss Cassandra crossed a leg and extended one bare foot, presenting it to Paul like an offering. The sight alone was enough to send his heart racing. At last, he could indulge in the sublime saltiness and wrinkles of Cassie's tender soles. 

With an anguished moan, Paul fastened his lips around her big toe, suckling gently as his tongue explored every crevice and contour. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of textures and tastes that left him breathless. 

With the lingering flavour of her bare toes in his mouth, his sight blackened by a blindfold, Miss Cassandra began to lay her final offer on the table. 

"Paul, darling," she purred, her voice laced with sinister intent, "the time has come for you to make a final decision. 

She removed his blindfold so he could watch her retrieve the discarded socks and slip them onto her feet, before beginning the painfully slow process of lacing her Doc Martin's onto her feet.

"A final kick with my new boots, full-power, to your locked-up cock and balls? Or you may get down on all fours and take a nice, thorough ass-fucking..." 

With a fiery blush branding his face, Paul arched his back and accepted a ball gag into his mouth. He presented his puckered asshole to Miss Cassandra like a supine sacrifice. We think he made the right choice, this time. 

I think Cassandra is our resident ball-buster now. Take a bow Cassie, you did well on this one, a special fan request. Fan mail and comments praising Cassandra may be left in the comments. 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Trophy Wife