My First Experience With A Femdom Professor
I bustled around the large, pale-green bathroom, trying to pretend nothing had changed and that tonight was just like any other night, even though I knew that something unusual was going to happen that would probably change my life forever. With my elbow, I tested Bella’s bath water. It was still too hot, but I knew from experience that this temperature would be just right by the time the evening news was over.
When I returned to the living room, She handed me Her glass without looking up from the screen. The newscast was about racial trouble in South Boston again. Bella’s lovely brown face was the intent, her eyes narrowed in concentrated anger. “Dumb, white honky liberals, ” She breathed, as I handed Her a fresh martini. “God, how I hate them!” The commercial came on finally, and I knew it was all right for me to speak, “I’m sorry,” I said.
This White Boy Is Learning His Place
She laughed and sipped Her drink, “Don’t be sorry, Sugar Plum” She said. “It’s not your fault.” Her sweet African lips parted in a mocking smile. “You’re one white bastard who’s learning his place.”Yes, Bella,” I murmured. “My bath ready?” I told Her it might still be a little hot. “I thought You would want to finish watching the news, Ma’am,” I said.
“Not tonight. I cannot stand any more of that shit. Besides, we have a guest coming, don’t we, little one?” I blushed and nodded. I hadn’t forgotten. She laughed at my discomfort and patted my cheek. “Don’t worry, sugar. Just do what you’re told, and you’ll have a ball.” She smiled and looked up at me “If everything goes well, I may even let you move in downstairs. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
My heart leaped. “Oh Bella,” I said. “That would be wonderful, you know how much I want to!” I’d been begging her for weeks to let me move into the little basement apartment in Her house. It was hardly more than a bedroom and bath.
Getting Dinner And The Bath Ready
My femdom professor called it “the slave quarters”, but it was just right for me. “What’s for dinner?” she asked, interrupting my reverie. “I put on a nice roast, it’ll be ready in a couple of hours.” “It had better be good, I told Cal you were becoming a good cook. You fuck this up, and I might have to train myself another boy.” “I understand, Mistress Bella…my femdom goddess.” She finished Her drink with a significant flourish and strode gracefully toward the bathroom, shedding Her clothes as She went and dropping them to the floor.
I picked them up dutifully and followed Her, grasping at the site of Her bronze body, slender yet voluptuous. What a femdom goddess she was..so irresistible!! One of her heavy breasts brushed my arm as I helped Her into the bath. I was moved, but she seemed not to notice. Her lithe insouciance was maddening. “Is it too hot, Ma’am?” I was worried about the water. Even when she was in a good mood, my Mistress angered quickly about little things. “Just right.” She said, sighing and lying back so far in the tub that I was afraid Her perfect Afro might get sudsy.
Bathing My Femdom Professor
I soaped a washcloth and began to bathe Her shoulders. She noticed a catch in my breath and ordered me to stand up straight. She inspected the front of my trousers carefully. They were a bit damp from the bathwater but there was no telltale lump. She nodded with satisfaction and told me I was a good boy. It was true, I thought proudly, I was learning to control myself. Like a good slave, I only got an erection when my Femdom Mistress ordered me to.
She closed Her eyes contentedly and let me bathe Her. I tried to concentrate on my work, to do the good, gentle job She expected, without letting myself get too excited while I washed Her breasts, her slender belly, and her sweet hips. Christ, how I loved Her! In the only way, I could, in the limited, humiliating way that my femdom demanded.
And tonight, I knew She planned to push my humiliation and degradation a step or two further. A few final steps, before She, consented to let me move in downstairs and become Her permanent slave. Three months ago, when I had first met Bella and asked her to dinner, I had no idea what I was getting into.
Bella Prout Is A Stunning Dominant Woman
I was aware only that asking Her out to dinner was the boldest thing I had ever done. Seeking a loan, I’d walked into the student affairs office at State, filled out an interminable form, waited nervously, and then been sent in to see Ms. Prout. Bella Prout was the Director of Student Affairs. I was so stunned by her beautiful Black face, extremely sensual yet possessing a refined, almost evil delicacy, that at first, I could not speak at all, I had never dated a black woman. Much less a woman that was a femdom.
I hadn’t really had much experience with women of any kind. And Ms. Prout was at least fifteen years older than I, thirty-five or so to my twenty. She was taller too, which I could see as she stood to open a file cabinet. She was an inch or two under six feet, lean in the legs and waist, full in the breasts and hips. Staring at her in rapture, my eyes were fixed on her proud African buttocks as she leaned over to look in the file drawer. I was afraid she’d hear my breathing.
The White Boy Asks Her Out On A Date
I was totally infatuated, captivated, and mesmerized by her amazing beauty, grace, and sexuality. I’m not even sure how I got the nerve to ask her. It was totally unlike me and completely out of character. I had never done anything like this before in my entire life. In fact, I was always too shy and too frightened to ask girls out in High School.
However, when she sat down again, something just came over me, almost like a magical mystical spell, as I lost my head and stammered out my proposal that she goes out to dinner with me.”Thank you, Mr. Stewart,” she said looking at me steadily. “But you obviously cannot afford to take me to dinner, at least not to any place I’d like to go. If you had any money to spare, you wouldn’t be applying for a loan, now, would you?”
The White Boy Still Looks Very Young
“No, I guess not,” I admitted, cursing my poverty. “And you’re just a kid, besides, I’d look like I just robbed some white woman’s cradle.” She glanced at my application. “God, you’re not quite twenty-one. And with that baby face, you look about fifteen.” My cheeks turned an even deeper crimson. It was true, of course: back in high school, everyone had teased me about my girlish face.
Nobody had mentioned it much in college, until now. “I’m sorry, Ms. Prout,” I managed. “I just thought ,,, You were so … She ignored my stammering and studied my application. “Hmmm, I see you’ve been on your own for a while, however. Both parents are deceased. Do you have any relatives in town?” “No, the only relative I have is an older sister. And she lives up in San Francisco.” “I see.”
She looked up from the form and noticed my burning cheeks. She laughed with what I thought was sympathy. “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?” “No,”, I murmured softly as I hung my head in shame. “I’ve always been too shy to ask girls out on a date, before today.”
Dinner At Her Place
“Can you cook, honey?” “A little, yes.” “Then why not ask me over to your place for dinner?” “Sure, but, well, I don’t live alone, you see. Several of us guys got a place in North Park.” “North Park?” She groaned, “Christ.” “Yes but it is cheap, you know, and … “She looked at me evenly for a moment, weighing the less-than-delightful alternatives. Finally, she spoke, “Look, if you’re really into our having dinner together, let’s have it at my place.
I’ll buy the steaks, and you do the cooking. I’ve got some work to take home tonight. I’ll do it while you’re busy in the kitchen.” “Sounds terrific,” I blurted, overjoyed. “Thanks.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t get too excited,” she said. “I don’t fuck white boys. Even when they have long blonde hair like yours.” Her language shocked me a bit, despite the way women talked on campus. “But of course, Ms. Prout,” I sputtered. “I didn’t expect any …” Any what? She asked coolly.”
“Why, any uh…sex” Oh, but I didn’t say there wouldn’t be any sex,” she said pleasantly and picked up my application again. “Now, Mr. Stewart, about your loan.”
