When Mistress Shoheli Decides To Be Kind To Her Slave

This is a somewhat loose continuation from my previous stories involving Smriti and Kritikaji (https://www.indiansexstories2.net/author/baby_3169/). “Loose” because after three months of being their rent-a-slave bitch, Smriti sort of lost interest in me having seen much worse depravities and much richer men at the club. Soon enough, she ditched us for a nice, rich businessman who had a tiny penis and was willing to let her dominate him. Kritikaji had a couple of more weeks of depraved and exclusive sex with me before she too decided to move on to a young, rich, classy faggot of a guy she met at the club.

Smriti had moved in with her slave but was kind enough to leave her flat’s keys with me and I had converted it into my own sloth haven, where I crashed hungover from the billion parties I started attending and suck men and women off at, being liberated from my two loving mistresses. I even met Kritikaji once at a party and we did it in the men’s loo for old times’ sake. But after endless weeks of depraved partying and multiple sex partners, I decided to slow down on the liberation and find a job to pay for all the partying. So I went back and started finding week-long owners at the club once again. And so the partying and earning with my ass and balls weeks continued until I met Shoheli.

Shoheli was a dom. Unmarried, thirty something, Shoheli was an enterprising “troubleshooter” for businessmen, the underworld, and politicians. She functions primarily as a lobbyist for the businessmen, buying votes in the legislatures and ensuring policy decisions are taken the way she is paid to lobby for. But she also engages routinely in assassinations, kidnappings, orchestrating “accidents”, the works. Of course, when she first bought me for a week, I had no idea of any of this. I was just depressed my mistress wasn’t a pretty woman like all the other wives of the businessmen who used to be regulars at the club. I was even sadder when I discovered she was alone – usually when the husband or boyfriend joined in on the dominance, things got a bit spicier since the men were always a lot more perverted than the women.

That was, I thought all this until my leash and chain was handed over to Shoheli. “On fours”, she said. Her voice was calm, quiet and even, but there was something a little menacing about it. I shrugged and went on all fours in front of her and bent down to kiss her feet just as an added bonus since she seemed into humiliation. She rudely yanked my chain back up, turned around and started walking. Having no option, I followed, admiring her shapely legs in the comfortable and practical black flats, rising up the flawless ankles, shins, flaring thighs ending in the prim and creaseless Gucci skirt of hers. She stopped to speak with some old chap with fly undone and his hand up a twenty-something’s skirt. I noticed that Shoheli was fondling his balls while she was talking with him but the bugger wasn’t even enjoying it. “Sexless motherfucker, can’t even enjoy a good handjob” I thought to myself. She lightly pecked him on his lips and resumed walking; I trailed behind her.

We got to her car and she motioned that I enter the trunk, which she held open. I looked up at her, slightly shocked – no one has really done this kind of shit with me till now. A swift and sharp kick to my chest made me realise she wanted me in not out of kinkiness. I quickly scrambled in and huddled up to avoid the closing door of the trunk hitting my head. After what seemed like three hours (I had no watch or anything else on my body except my leash and chain), she finally stopped the car and opened the trunk. We did stop about twenty minutes into the drive, but she didn’t open the door – I spent presumably an hour or so just stuck in the trunk fantasizing Shoheli’s legs and her fleshy body. Now when she stopped and opened the trunk, I was praying I will be getting out of the cramped trunk – I did. Shoheli roughly yanked at my chain, impatiently waited till I scrambled back out of the trunk, and started walking.

I crawled through an indoor garage into a sparsely and somewhat coldly furnished house. The living room had one couch and two chairs, all leather, a home-theatre setup and a showcase. I barely got to see a wooden table and chair set in the dining room before I was yanked into the bedroom. The bedroom was mostly occupied by the queen-sized bed with its plush mattress and pillow sets, all in tasteful pastel blue. She switched the air-conditioning and lights on and opened her hair, which was in a tight bun. She took a deep breath as the hair cascaded down her back and reached the small of her back. I waited obediently on all fours.

She turned around, looked sternly at me, and yanked the chain upwards. I quickly stood up, put my hands behind my head and had my eyes look down, adopting the classic slave pose. I noticed that she wore a linen full-sleeved shirt, perfectly tailored, and which showed off her figure – albeit not the best of figures – very well. She had tiny boobs, probably b-cups, and a cute and slightly protruding belly – I just loved women with belly! But the most striking feature was her fleshiness; she seemed to have an extra layer of flesh everywhere. I was to discover only later that she was Bengali and was in admirably good shape for a Bengali woman although she couldn’t get rid of the excess fat. I definitely wasn’t complaining!

Shoheli ran her hand over my body, checking my shaven underarms (muttering under her breath, “nice and smooth, just like a good faggot”), twisting my nipples a bit, slapping my buttocks a coupla times, crushing my balls in her hand (and grinning contently when I refrained from yelling though my legs twitched with the pain). Suddenly, she grabbed the small of my back and pulled me forward, pressing me against herself. At 5’11”, I stood three feet taller than her, but I had sense enough to bend down so we were face to face. She smiled a lovely smile (that I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for I fell in love with her at that moment) and whispered, “So, what is your name, slave?” She licked my lips as I replied, stammering, “B-B-B-Baby”, and then we kissed. Her grip on my waist tightened as her tongue wrestled mine, forcing me to first bend my knees as she pushed herself on me, and soon almost down on my knees as she kissed with such force and vigour.

She finally broke the kiss, grinned, slapped my face lightly as I fell on my knees and said, “I think you’ll be the first one I like. Come, you may be naked but I’m still dressed, so be a good slave and help me undress.” I was completely confused. Most women and all the men who bought me used me primarily to humiliate me and for cock-and-ball torture, or just fucking me in the ass and making me drink their piss and stuff. I had never yet had an occasion when an owner acted as though I was a servant or a regular slave, instead of a sex-slave. I mentally shrugged it off and decided to act the part, holding a hand out. Shoheli giggled (she was obviously a bit tipsy with all the alcohol that I smelt in her breath) and gave me her hand as I led her to the chair in front of the dressing table and switched the lights on.

“My my, what a gentleman of a slave you are, Baby”, she said as I started by kneeling and undoing her shoes. I got them off and, on an impulse, bent down and kissed them; I could hear her murmur contently. I got her ankle-length socks off and gently massaged her feet as she laid further back into the plush chair and closed her eyes. It was an entirely new experience for me to be this close and intimate with any woman, much less a mistress, and I enjoyed it immensely. I finished with her legs and stood up to attend to her clothes. Obviously, I had a raging hardon by now, which was throbbing with anticipation. Shoheli saw it and grabbed at it, giggling and slapping it around a bit as it danced under her ministrations. After a couple of minutes, I held her hands, kissed them, and began undoing her cuffs. I finished undoing them and put her hands back on my cock as I stood in front of her. From this awkward position where I was towering over her as she sat on the chair, I attempted to open her shirt’s buttons, obviously not doing a good job with just the first one.

“Idiotic Baby doesn’t even know a woman has to be standing to be fully undressed”, she remarked and landed a resounding slap on my balls, which sent them dancing to high heavens and made me yelp out in pain involuntarily. “Sorry mistress”, I whimpered, forcing myself not to cup my balls as she stood up, pushing the heavy chair backwards with relative ease. “Oh shush, idiot! I don’t think we’ll be Mistress-slave so just call me ‘Shoheli’,” she said and pulled my face down and kissed me again. “Yes Mistress… I mean Shoheli”, I said, flustered at the weird turn of events. The smell of the alcohol made me assume she was quite drunk to understand what she was saying but I knew I had to play along. She didn’t respond but just leaned back and laughed out loud for a few seconds and finally simmering it down to a giggle. I just stood there, transfixed by her beauty and her poise and elegance and absolute control over me. “Taadna band karo and get back to work, buddhu”, she giggled, bringing me back to earth.

I resumed by unbuttoning her shirt, which revealed a black bra with red highlights firmly holding together a pair of milky white tits. I exercised great restraint in not playing around with her navel or her belly, which jiggled around like jelly. Intentionally, I pushed her hands towards her back, pulled her forward and hugged her, making a show of taking her shirt off from the back. My cock did a good job of rubbing her belly as I acted as though her sleeves were stuck on her arms. I was, however, well within my senses to move to her skirt instead of attacking her bra. “Smart little Baby”, she (presumably talking to herself) said out loud. I noticed the zipper on the side of the skirt immediately but made a show of searching for it and rubbed her ass nicely over the skirt. She giggled as I goosed her a couple of times and finally I came around to the zipper. I unzipped it to pull the skirt off her, only to discover that my dear Mistress wasn’t wearing any panties.

A more flawless crotch, I’ve never seen on a woman, and I have seen the richest of pussies that women spend thousands to make seem good! It was silky smooth skin, just like the rest of her body. Pure white, with a nice shag of thick black hair (I just loved women with hairy pussies) neatly combed down, it led to a lovely pair of pussy lips, each softer than the other, neatly arranged closed and dripping precum. Shoheli was hornier than an ape on Viagra in heat! I knew enough, however, not to touch it without her permission, and so moved up to remove her bra. I had trained enough with Kritikaji’s bra (Smriti hated wearing one) to pop this one open in under a second. I dropped the bra on top of the rest of her clothes (which I remembered to neatly fold up as I discarded) and picked up a visibly impressed Shoheli in my arms and walked towards the attached washroom. I thanked my lucky stars she didn’t weigh much because I definitely didn’t think it through when I picked her up!

I switched the light on and walked in and thankfully, there was a stiff backed in the washroom in front of the counter/mirror as I had hoped for. The entire washroom was, just as the bedroom, tastefully done, but in white and shades of pastel ochre. I sat Shoheli down on the stool and washed my hands at the wash-basin and ran a bath of nice steaming hot water. I pulled a shower-cap out of the counter and put it on her, “would take your hair too long to dry and I’m sure we are gonna get it wet” I said and winked. Shoheli was just staring wide eyed as I picked her up and plonked her on the WC. I smiled at her and said, “want me to turn around? I’d love not to though”, and winked, now thoroughly enjoying the fact that I wasn’t being treated as a slave and hoping that I don’t the shit spanked out of me tomorrow when she sobers up. “Well, I was planning on peeing on you, sweetheart, but if this is what you prefer!” she said and started her stream of piss. I lunged forward, sat down before the WC and attached my mouth to her pussy lips and started drinking, enjoying the taste of piss that Sonia had first got me hooked to. I was simultaneously also running my tongue over her clit and tweaking her nipples and pulling on her nipple rings.

But she stopped pissing. Thinking she is done, I pulled back, showed the piss accumulated in my mouth to her and swallowed. She giggled and jumped off the WC and stood on front of me and started peeing on my face, “keep your mouth closed!” she shrieked and and peed what seemed like a gallon (I finally understood why she went drinking after buying me!). She finished and pulled me up, sopping wet, knelt down, held my dick to her forehead and said “your turn”. I had barely had anything to drink since the event started at 7 in the evening so I peed a respectable amount but it wasn’t the prodigious fountain that Shoheli baptized me with a while back. Shoheli realized it, got up, smiled at me, put her arms around my neck and pulled me down for a deep, long kiss.

I broke the kiss, scooped her up in my arms and put her in the now fully drawn bath. I dragged a stool to sit next to it and bathe her when she pulled my arm and got me into the tub with her. Obviously, since the bath was drawn for one, a fair bit of water spilled out. She made me turn around and got me into her pussy. It slid in fairly easily, with all the water and lubrication. We spent a half hour fucking but we were both too tired from the long day and the bathtub wasn’t particularly comfortable for fucking so we both decided to conclude it. She had already come twice and she came a third time with me as I pulled out and jacked off onto her face as she squeezed my balls.

We pulled the plug from the bathtub and sat in it till whatever little water was left was drained, me fingering her in the meantime. “You are the worst slave ever, but you are a bloody good fucktool.” “Thanks Mistress… Er, I mean Shoheli”. She reached forward and squeezed my balls really painfully, “You seem quite domineering, why do you still like being dominated and humiliated? And yes, you can call me Mistress if it is easier for you; we can phase it out over the next five days”, she said, and kissed me deep, while still squeezing my balls. I licked her face, “Honestly, I’m just a kinky bastard who likes sexual deviance. And there are some women born to be tied up, and others who are best with a pair of balls in their hands.” She giggled and playfully slapped my face as she released my balls. “Well, we’ll work something out,” she said as we got up and I started toweling her dry.

I finished drying her and pulled the shower cap off and sat her down on the chair. I started brushing her hair when she pulled the brush out of my hands. “Dry yourself before you get hypothermia! I can handle brushing my own hair” she said and gave my balls a whack with the back of the hairbrush. I yelped and hurriedly dried myself as she brushed her hair. “You seem fairly educated to be doing this kinda shit for a living; you qualified?” she asked while brushing. “Well, Mistress, I’m a qualified lawyer and have an MBA in IT. I do this both for the money and the kinks, though more the latter than the former”, I said and winked at her in the mirror as she went “hmmm” and smiled back. “Well, lets go sleep tonight and we’ll see what we can do about this tomorrow” she said and started walking to her bed. “I’ll take the couch, if I may? I’m usually suspended from ceilings or spreadeagled on tables for the night so I’m not sure what to do right now.” Shoheli just laughed, came back, grabbed my balls, squeezing them, and dragged me along to the bed, got under the covers and pulled me in with her.

To be continued if you people want me to. Comments welcome at [email protected].