Mistress Mary Mayhem Femdom
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Mistress Mara Mayhem Milwaukee Tour
Late Summer tour news in as Mistress Mara Mayhem heads to Milwaukee in Wisconsin soon.
Following on from Her recent travel including Her tour to Detroit earlier this year Mistress Mara Mayhem keeps on the move this month as She embarks on a mini FemDom tour to Milwaukee which is scheduled to take place during the dates displayed up above. Applications to Serve Mistress Mayhem during Her 2 day min tour can now be applied for by using the direct email address easily found in the “Contact” section of Her web site & observing the Session application instructions. Professional Domination Sessions usually run from early in the morning until very late at night when Ms Mayhem tours which are open to novices as well as the more experienced slave & submissive but please note that you will be required to pay an advance deposit in order to secure your appointment. Details of the setting for the Milwaukee Sessions can be obtained by reaching out directly to Mistress Mayhem.
Located in Chicago when not on tour, Mistress Mara Mayhem is an experienced & regarded Dominatrix who enjoys a wide selection of scenes & activities when Dominating slaves & subs including but not limited to Corporal Punishment, Trampling & Tease & Denial to name a small selection, check out the interests section of Miss Mayhem’s web site for much more detailed information of Her Domination preferences & approach which can also incorporate Chastity Training with Key holding & long term lock ups as well or contact Her directly to discuss your own scene or scenario should it not be included.
You can find out more information & apply to Serve in Milwaukee later on this month or in Chicago at various other times as well as see additional pictures & lots more besides by visiting the web site of Mistress Mara Mayhem
I was only 12-years-old when the high school girl who lived next door caught me masturbating into a pair of stockings. I thought I was well hidden in the bushes between out two houses, but I didn’t realize that my performance was taking place just below her bedroom window — and I was making noises I didn’t realize.
She used a broom handle to part the top of the bush and looked right down on the most embarrassing scene of my life. She laughed at first while I sputtered around for an excuse. Then she stopped laughing and glared at the nylons I had appropriated as a fantasy aid.
“Why you little creep! Those are mine!”
And of course, they were. I had fished them out of a hamper when my family was over for a barbecue the week prior. The nylons were well-used by now. As I looked up at mary while she fumed at me from her window, I knew I was as good as dead. As soon as she told anybody about her discovery, my family would ground me for life and I wouldn’t be able to show my face anywhere around the neighborhood, or school. Everyone would know I was a pervert. (Funny how the word is misused all the time. I never had thoughts of HURTING anybody or FORCING them to do things they don’t want to do, but still I was pretty sure the pervert label would brand me for life.)
The only words I managed to get out were: “Please don’t tell.”
Her expression changed. “Anything?”
Sometimes, the devil comes out through the eyes. That’s where I saw him then, smiling down at me through Mary’s eyes.
“Okay, you little creep. I’ll keep your secret, IF, you become my slaveboy for the next couple hours.”
I honestly didn’t know what she meant, but I was so relieved that she wouldn’t tell anyone I agreed at once.
“Zip up and get in this house,” she commanded. I jumped to obey.
I was relieved to discover she was alone in the house. It meant there would be no added pressure trying to hide the truth from any adults in proximity.
“I’m supposed to clean my room before my parents come back,” she said. “I hate cleaning my room! So you’re going to do it for me while I direct. Is that clear?”
And she led me to her bedroom. I followed her about five paces behind, admiring the older girl’s figure. She wore cut-off jeans with an oversized white t-shirt. I think Jethro Tull’s logo was on the shirt. I knew there was no bra, because her breasts were too small. She walked on beautiful bare feet.
I had always considered mary very cute. I was surprised to learn later that other guys thought of her as plain. She had rather mousy dark hair, high cheekbones and a slightly upturned, pointed nose like Jodie Foster. And perfect feet.
That, of course, is why I always found her so attractive. Mary didn’t like to walk around in shoes. Stockinged or bare feet were her preferred states, and I often found myself stealing glances at voluptuous, sinuous arches and delicate, white, perfectly-proportional toes. I guess I just never concentrated so much on her face.
She was sixteen, but weighed maybe only twenty pounds more that I did. Not an imposing figure, but that afternoon she possessed complete power over me, and in remembrance, I know now how much she must have enjoyed it.
We arrived at the place she fondly referred to as “the pig sty.” It was not half as bad as my own room. I felt it was going to be a cinch. She lay down comfortably on her bed propped up on pillows and began directing me. I picked up delicious articles of clothing and put them away. I got to poke into every private corner of Mary’s room. I gulped when I realized my hard-on must be visible to her.
Finally, she ordered me to clean out the stuff under her bed.
That’s where I found the banana. It was pretty black, mushy and disgusting.
I picked up the stem warily and dragged it out to the open, keeping my head under the bed. She stood up to inspect the rotted fruit and repeated my comment.
“Euwww is right! Ha! You never know what’s hiding under your bed.”
I was on my back, looking out to the floor of the bedroom from my cavernous position below the box spring. All I could see was the lower part of my body, the banana, and Mary’s toes as she prodded it like it was a dead carcass. Which I guess it was.
I saw her big toe give the thing a poke, and instantly a dark syrup squirted from the seams of the peel. She giggled. So did I.
“Do you see that?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she did it again. I don’t know why, but I giggled again.
I froze, unsure of what I had just heard.
I slowly hiked up my own t-shirt, exposing my belly to her. At least, from my position, she couldn’t see how red my face was. Then, in sensuous fascination, I saw her pinch the banana step between her toes and carefully lift the fruit off the carpet, and deposit it on by bare stomach.
I just groaned. The oily juices of the fruit dripped into my belly button, bringing gales of cruel laughter from Mary.
“Please, Mary. Move it from there.” The words weren’t very specific, and perhaps that was what she decided to play up in what followed.
She stopped laughing. There was no sound at all for a few seconds. Then: “Okay. I’ll move it.”
She suddenly bent down and with one hand she lifted the waist band of my shorts while with the other she shoved the banana down into my underwear.
“Uugh!” I then realized that in my position part-way under the bed I couldn’t really move very well. I couldn’t reach my pants. Mary’s giggling laughter washed over me as I squirmed. There was something infectious about that laughter, for I found myself unexplainably laughing with her. I didn’t know why, but we were both
having a great time.
“Is it squishy?” I heard her ask. But I was giggling too hard to answer.
She started poking at my crotch with her toes. Part of my brain froze. The giggling proceeded on automatic, uncontrolled. Poke poke poke. I felt a cool moisture dripping down my balls. I felt something much warmer stirring inside them.
Then Mary placed the ball of her right foot squarely over the banana and pressed down firmly. A mushy goo flooded my underwear. She started to pump her foot. I felt incredible.
“Ooo,” she said, “I feel two bananas down there now!”
Sure enough, one banana was passing, another was rising, ripening fast!
And she kept pumping. After one pump, I saw her foot come down flat and then felt an enormous pressure begin on my dick. I heard the creaking of the bedsprings and realized Mary was bent over, using her bed for support.
Looking back down to my waist, I saw why she needed the support. Her other foot had come up to join in the fun! Mary stood on my crotch and mashed the banana playfully as she treaded in place for about five minutes.
By the end of that time, the banana was not the only goo in my pants, and we both knew it.
She got off me and ordered me out from under the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed as I made my way out, her feet dangling on either side if my body. When my face cleared the box spring I looked up to see her grinning down at me.
“That’s far enough!” she said. “You’re here to clean, remember?”
She placed them both on my face, giving me a good whiff of their mustiness-mixed-with-ripe-banana. Three of her toes found my lips and pried them open, then all the toes followed, one-by-one, into my mouth as I sucked and licked them all spotless. She took her time. One foot then the other. Then she dried the toes against the shirt bunched up on my chest.
“Now the rest.” She made my lick the bottom of her feet. They tasted the most strongly of banana I had to nibble on her left heel a little to peel off one of the fruit strands that had somehow gotten lodged there. When I did this, Mary groaned in pleasure.
“That feels really good! Do it some more.”
I nibbled on both heels, the edges of her feet, and her toes. She loved it.
But finally, much to my disappointment, she removed her feet from my face and told me to get up.
“You’re the one who’s filthy now,” she informed me. “Come with me.”
(After being trampled by my neighbor in her bedroom – a particularly juicy experience involving a banana — Mary is just starting to warm up to her dominant role…)
She led me to the bathroom and told me to get in the tub. I took off my own shoes, pulled the shower curtains aside, and hopped in. She pulled the curtain closed after me and said, “Now take off your clothes and hand them out to me. I’ll wash them so you don’t have to go home like that.”
She was suddenly being too kind. I didn’t know what she really had in mind, but I didn’t care, either. mary could have told me to dive head-first off the roof of her house and I’d have done it at that point.
She took all my clothes and I asked if I should shower right then.
“No!” She snapped. “Remember, Slaveboy, only I turn the water on and off. Got it?”
“You heard me. On your back with your head toward the facet! I expect to find you like that when I return.”
I had to draw up my knees in order to fit in the tub like she wanted me to. My hard-on was coming back, too.
She returned and drew the curtains aside. She had changed into a bikini bathing suit. In her arms she carried some kind of padded board, and in her mouth she had a straw. She inspected my naked body for a while before setting the board across the tub just ahead of where my knees poked out. It fit securely like a seat.
Gingerly, she climbed onto the seat and planted her feet on my chest. Smiling with that straw between her teeth, she bent slowly forward, grabbed the tap, and turned on the water.
She had to play with the temperature a bit. First it was too cold and then it was too hot. My groans guided her. The water did not fall directly on my face. The stream actually parted my hairline. When she felt the water was finally right. She flipped up the lever that set the tub stopper. The water level began to rise.
“You’ll be clean in no time,” she mumbled between gritted teeth.
When the water reached my chest, mary began slapping puddles on me with her feet. Once she reached out and covered my face with her soles, rubbing them gently against my cheeks or kneading my forehead, nose and eyelids with her curling toes.
Then the water began to flow over my face, and I had to strain upwards to keep breathing.
That’s when mary took the straw out of her mouth and put it in mine. Using her feet to control me, she pushed down on my chest so I went under the water.
I breathed through the straw, looking up through the water at mary’s cruel, wide grin. She reached forward again, grabbing the sides of the tub — and stood up.
She laughed, and I believe it was because of the sound that must have come up through the straw. She walked little, tiny steps on my chest while I tried to suck down all the air I could. Then she grew confidence of her balance and bounced up and down on me without handholds. I couldn’t hear anything except the crash of water behind my head, but I could see Mary laughing with delight at every step.
Mary took off the top of her bikini. With great skill, she pulled down the bottoms and stepped out of them, still on my chest. Then she removed the little padded seat and closed the shower curtain.
She kept one foot on me and lifted the other to a small knob behind me. I knew what she was doing, even though I couldn’t see what she was doing with her toes. But I knew those toes were very dexterous!
With her foot, she switched the water flow from the main tap to the shower. It rained down on her as she proceeded scrub herself with a soapy towel.
She didn’t stay on my chest, either. She stepped around freely, walking up and down my stomach, and pausing once or twice to squash my dick against my abdomen. Once she used my knees for a seat and playfully dug her heel (gently) into my balls.
When I came it quickly dissipated in the water, but mary saw. She quickly stood on my dick with her toes curling around the head and pinched again and again, so that I shot another stream right between her toes.
Finally, completely scrubbed (and me completely drained), she shut off the shower and unstopped the tub. She kept one foot on my chest and another on my stomach as the water drained. When the water was gone, I still lay there with the straw ridiculously in my mouth and Mary still standing naked on me.
“One last thing, then, and we’ll call it even on secrets. Scoot down a little more.”
I did what she said and saw her walk up to straddle my face, her back to the plumbing. “Open your mouth.”
I thought she was going to sit on me and grew excited. My lips parted wide in anticipation.
Mary squatted a little and pissed on me.
It was humiliating. It tasted awful. She kept my down by balancing herself with both feet on my urine-covered face while I choked the pee down. Her laughter echoed in my ears and I thought I would vomit.
Instead, I came. A nice, long time.
I had to take another shower by myself after that and when I finished, Mary, true to her words, handed me my washed and dried clothes. Plus something extra before I left her house. A fresh pair of nylons.
To my knowledge, Mary never did tell anyone about the nylons or the banana or the bathtub. I think I still love her for that.
Copyright 1995 by Footprinter. Read and enjoy. copy if you like. But please, DO NOT SELL WITHOUT PERMISSION. This manuscript was created exclusively for the internet newsgroups completely gratis.
This was a nice story, simple but good, short but worth the time in my opinion
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