Beth's Shin, Socks, Feet Domination Ch. 05

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Dominant CEO continues her torment and titillation.
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Part 5 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 05/22/2011
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This is the continuing story of Beth Sands, a sexy company president, and her domination of Michael, a young employee she'd enslaved with her sexy calves, socks and feet. It's helpful to have read the prior stories but that's the nutshell summary. This chapter contains more of the same - female domination of a male, with enforced cum-eating and oral slavery - and contains male-to-male sexual contact. Please enjoy if this sort of thing appeals to you, I offer the synopsis as warning to those who may not, and enticement to those who do...

*****

Michael wanted the job as Elizabeth Sands' administrative assistant more than anything in the world. Wasn't what he'd been through enough proof of that?

He'd become her slave, her willing and eager and thoroughly humiliated sex slave, taken prisoner by her dominant mind, her incredible, lean and strong 60-year-old body, spectacular calves, her smelly black socks and hairy pussy and commanding asshole.

He'd done everything he'd been told to do, which this night consisted of sucking another man's cock as he was blindfolded, and eating his cum as his leggy boss jerked the man off with her solid, superbly proficient calves.

Now he walked out of the restaurant's back room of the hotel where his humiliation had begun the night before, on his way to her penthouse suite where she waited with Bradford, the impossibly annoying suck-up kiss-ass who was after the job as well, and whose spunk Michael was still wiping off his face.

And all he could think of was how much he wanted the job - and to continue as her very submissive, eager sex slave to her lovely calves, sinfully smelly socks and deliciously dominant mind. He wasn't sure which he wanted more - and then was rattled by the realization he wanted the latter more than the former.

"God, what the fuck's happening to me?" he groaned, punching the elevator in the hotel lobby outside the restaurant he'd just been shamed in, feeling his cock stiffening in his pants. "Christ..."

He got into the elevator and pressed the key to the penthouse on the 30th floor. It wouldn't light up. He pressed it again and again, getting more frustrated. A hotel worker walked into the car, and Michael asked him what was wrong with it.

"Are you a guest in the room?" the snooty punk asked indifferently.

"Yeah," Michael lied.

"You have to swipe your key card to access the penthouse," the punk said, pointing to the holder.

"I'm a guest of the hotel..but not the...but my boss is there, I'm supposed to go..to have a meeting, now," Michael said.

"Then you'll have to call your boss to come down and get you, won't you," the punk said, holding the door open for Michael, cocking his head outward as signal he exit the elevator and stop bothering him. "House phone is right there."

He pointed to a nearby table as the door closed, a snarky smile on his face as Michael stepped out. He picked up the phone and rang the penthouse.

"Hello, Mrs. Sands' assistant, may I help you?" Bradford's bright voice answered

His heart sank.

"What the fuck, you're not her assistant yet, asshole," Michael snapped.

"Oh, Michael, how good to hear from you, we thought you'd forgotten," Bradford laughed, Michael's heart sinking further, sensing by the 'we' that his ship had sailed. "What's kept you?"

"Look, you fucking kiss ass, I'm trying to get the fuck up there, but I can't because you need a fucking room key card to use in the elevator, so get your sorry fucking ass down here now, goddammit!"

"Michael, do you think that's the tone of voice you want to use with me?"

Beth Sands' voice was icy cold. Bradford had passed off the phone.

"No! God, no, Bet...Mother, I'm so sorry, it's just that..." he babbled, using the name she insisted he call her since she started tormenting him the night before.

"You need a keycard, right? Well, I'm certainly not coming to fetch you, and young Bradford here...well...," she hissed, Michael's imagination running wild with what young Bradford was doing at the moment, likely pawing at her luscious body as they both mocked him. "He's busy at the moment...mmmm, that's nice, Bradford, you do such good work, you're so good with your hands!"

"But..." Michael stammered.

"Take the stairs," she growled before slamming down the phone. "If you're not here in three minutes, I'll assume you don't want the job that Bradford is so eagerly applying for!"

"But!"

Click. But not before he heard Bradford's sycophantic laughter.

"Mother fucker!" he snapped, bolting for the staircase.

He ran as fast as he could, taking two and sometimes three steps at once. He was in good shape, young, fit, he knew he could do 30 floors in three minutes. He calculated as he ran, but with every floor, he slowed, tiring. He looked at his watch as he jogged, sweat pouring off his face. He made the 20th floor in a couple of minutes, and knew he'd be fucked if he didn't pick up the pace. He forced his legs to move swiftly, panting for air, his clothes soaked with perspiration.

He made the 30th floor, finally, but to his horror noting he was 30 seconds behind. He leaned on the penthouse door, gasping for air and pounding on it as well as ringing the bell.

The door opened. Beth Sands stood, still in the same black business suit she'd been wearing all day and through dinner. She was barefoot, save for those familiar, nasty black socks. She did not look pleased.

"You're late," she said plainly. "Thirty-seconds late. But you made a valiant effort, and that counts for you. Your tardiness counts against you. What you do in this room will make all the difference. Come in, and do go freshen up, I don't want you dripping your sweat all over the place."

"Tha...tha..." he wheezed, walking in, the door closing behind him.

He staggered to the hallway bathroom, dousing his face and cleaning up with a towel. From the majestic living area he heard laughter and low voices, the tinkling of glasses and the vision of his professional future dimming by the second.

He walked into the room where Bradford and Beth were sitting quite cozily on the sofa, drinking champagne. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his breathing still labored.

"Well now, we seem to have a dilemma," she finally said, holding up her glass as she glared at Michael, Bradford dutifully and seamlessly lifting the champagne bottle to refill it. "Both of you young men want to be my assistant. Both seem eager, quite eager, perhaps one of you..."

She tilted her head Bradford's way but continued to stare at Michael, who hated the smirking prick's satisfied smile as she spoke.

"...more than the other."

"No, Mrs...Mo..."

"Yes, Michael, Mother it is," she smiled, patting Bradford's thigh, squeezing it. "I told my friend here all about our...well, our unique history..."

"You...you...everything?" Michael groaned, feeling his position grow weaker by the second.

"Yeah, everything, man you are such a pussy!" Bradford laughed, putting his glass down to hook his arm around Beth's slender shoulder, massaging it. "But hey, if you gotta be a pussy to a woman, THIS is the woman to be with!"

"That's very sweet of you, young man," Beth cooed, slipping her hand up his thigh to fondle his hard cock in his dress slacks, Michael's eyes going wide in the watching, head hanging somberly on his chest, resignation written all over his sad face. "But, this contest is just beginning."

"Contest?" Bradford asked. "What contest?"

"A contest, a test of skill and will between you two," she said, standing up with her glass, sipping, walking to the middle of the room to face Michael. "There will be events..shall we say five events, and the first to win three events..."

She turned, sashaying casually to Bradford, who stood, putting one arm around his neck and giving him a long, very deep and wet kiss. Bradford groaned with pleasure as he cupped her old but shapely ass, Michael groaning for different reasons. She broke the kiss and sat down, crossing her leg.

She slowly, and with a smile, slipped up her pant leg a bit to flash her incredibly sexy shiny shin and supple, hard calf above black sock - the first sight of her that started Michael's madness in the bar the night before.

"...wins the administrative job," she finished. "And the loser? Well, the loser will still be in my employ - as my and my administrative assistant's cuckold! You are familiar with that, aren't you Michael?"

His head drooped lower. Bradford's cocked in curiosity.

"He is?"

"Bradford, in the interest of full disclosure, young Michael here was never out of the room at dinner," she said. "He was under the table, servicing me - and you. Cleaning up the mess we made."

Bradford's eyes widened.

"You've had man-to-man encounters before, Bradford, you told me, and it's something I find rather attractive in a man, especially one who could be my new assistant. Is that a problem, young man?"

"No, no, of course not," he said, a smile breaking out on his face, shrugging his shoulders. "I'll do whatever it takes, and will ALWAYS be there for you!"

"Of course you will," Beth said.

Bradford hooted, clapping his hands, eager for the battle to begin. Michael could only stand and stare helplessly at that flash of leg on the couch belonging to the woman who controlled his destiny.

"Bring it on, whatcha got in mind, gorgeous lady?" Bradford hollered, slapping the stunned Michael on the back and nearly knocking him down, Michael shooting the beaming bore a snarling look.

"Gentlemen, start your engines," Beth cooed seductively, sitting back and sipping her champagne, bouncing her crossed leg, the flare of freckled muscle alongside her shin making Michael feel weak in the knees. "Strip. Naked. Now."

Bradford eagerly peeled off his clothes, quickly, Beth making approving noises as his rugged, muscular smooth body came into view, particularly his long, thick soft cock, which appeared to be a good six inches long even in repose.

Michael shucked his clothes more slowly, standing and covering his cock, which was shrunken to a nub in the chill of the suite.

"Event number one: Get it up for your boss. First one to full hardness wins."

"Piece of cake, I'm already halfway there!" Bradford laughed, hoisting his thick, soft dick in his hand as Michael fingered his little one.

"No, no, no, that's far too easy," Beth laughed. "No hands. Let your imagination and your eyes do all the work..."

She eyed their cocks and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, taking it off, then her bra. Bradford groaned; he was a tit man through and through, and this was the trigger he needed. His huge cock thickened under her stare as he looked at her deliciously wrinkled titties bounce into view.

She giggled and sat back, pulling up her pant legs to her bony knees, the full length of her alluring calves above her stinky, low black socks making Michael's cock spring to life. He stared hard at them, loving them, wanting and needing them, letting the vision permeate his sexual being, knowing how hard her legs made him before.

"So far, a tie," Beth cooed, sipping champagne again, tits creamy white, calves creased with muscle, watching both cocks rise quickly.

Michael had the advantage of far more experience with this lady and her mind, and his cock sprang up fully before him, bobbing proudly in the air. Bradford's impressive dong swung up fully scant seconds later. Michael smiled, looking at it, then his, then into his boss's approving eyes.

"Michael wins!" she laughed. "He leads 1-0."

"Fuck you," Bradford snarled in a whisper.

"Perhaps in due time but meanwhile, there's no need for that kind of language, young man," Beth scolded in a playful tone.

She leaned forward, hands on knees, her face drawing closer to both stiff cocks as they stood naked before her.

"Second event," she said, smiling. "Cock size!"

Michael's confidence waned, his face going white, shoulders sagging. Bradford roared with laughter.

"Need a ruler, pretty lady?" he said, winking at her.

"Hardly," she sighed, eyeing Bradford's huge cock. "But just for accuracy's sake..."

She slipped off the couch, kneeling before them. She placed one hand each under their balls, Michael's small and tight to his body, Bradford's plum-sized and hanging low, draping their hard cocks over her palms and wrists. Michael's tip came just to her wrist. Bradford's extended halfway up her slender forearm.

Michael sighed. Bradford laughed. Beth smiled.

"Well THAT was easy!" she laughed, sitting back on the couch. "We have a tie!"

The men watched her very slowly slither out of her pants, peeling them down her rugged old legs, tossing them aside, and with them her panties, soaked and soiled from wearing the last 24 hours. She sat, spreading her luscious, meaty thighs, calves balled in muscle as she pointed her toes, her stinky black socks falling on her thin ankles.

"Third event: Making your boss orgasm as quickly as possible, with your mouths," she said, parting her furry pussy lips with her fingers, exposing the fleshy, wet lips and protruding clit. "Bradford, do the honors if you would.."

"Hell YES!" he growled, hitting his knees and shuffling between Beth's spread thighs.

Michael watched, aghast as the instant his tongue slithered into Beth's wet pussy her body tensed and trembled, eyes rolling over in their sockets, gasping. The kid was a pro, Michael realized, not seeing what he was doing but hearing the sloppy, wet sounds of his tongue drubbing her pussy, slashing up and down and around her eager clit. She ran one hand through his hair as he feasted on her cunt, and in the other held her cell phone, watching the timer tick away.

"Very nice, young man, you are VERY good at this task, that will serve you well in the job...should you earn it, as it certainly feels like you will!" she hissed, pulling his face to her cunt, grinding against it. "Mmmmm...nice, very very nice..."

She came moments later, flooding his sucking, adoring face with her cream, grunting and snapping her pussy against it, thighs trembling along with the rest of her delicious body. She slowed her tremors, stopping and tilting Bradford's face up and out of her pussy, smiling at him.

"Three minutes!" she announced, clearing the counter of her phone. "Let's see if your opponent has what it takes to do it even more quickly..."

Bradford stood, cockily walking back to the center of the room, motioning with a sweep of his hand that Michael take his place between their boss's waiting thighs. He knelt, nervously looking at her matted pussy, inhaling the sweet-sour scent of her musk. He balked at its wetness, knowing some of it belonged to his opponent.

"Oh, come now, Michael, you ate Bradford's cum earlier, a little bit of his spit bothers you now?" she scolded, fingering her cell phone. "Time has started. I wouldn't waste any if I were you, that young man was very good at what he did to me..."

Michael groaned and dove in, ignoring the smell and texture, attacking her soggy cunt with his mouth, attaching his lips to her engorged clit and sucking it into his mouth. He took heart in her reaction as he dribbled her clit with his tongue, her body trembling.

He looked up through her bush, over the saggy tits splayed slightly to the sides, and into her groaning face. He was on the right track.

Then it got tougher. With a violent snap, Beth clamped her muscular old thighs around his ears and neck, locking up her socked feet and twisting her legs tightly around him. He groaned in pain, a familiar one as she'd done this to him before, punishing his head in her scissoring thighs as he satisfied her, his extremities tingling as her legs slowed the blood flow to his brain. He had to finish her and quickly before he succumbed to her crushing scissor lock and be denied oral victory.

His hands pulled at her crushing thighs, tugging them apart just enough to allow him to work more freely, and he redoubled his efforts, driving his tongue over her clit with a vengeance, flashing it side to side with laser precision, feeling her hairy pussy moisten and drench his face.

She finally screamed, which she hadn't done with Bradford, and slammed her legs around his head harder, hunching over him and pounding his face with her pussy, driving it into him with erotic power as she came long and hard.

She released him moments later, and he fell back, groggily, hoping in her orgasmic stupor she hadn't forgotten to stop the timer. She slumped back to the couch, thighs splayed apart, the sexy inner meat of them swaying slightly as she relaxed. Michael wiped his face and looked at her cell phone held in her palm as it rested on one thigh.

"Beat that, sucker," he said proudly, looking at Bradford and pointing to the phone which read 2:50.

"You got lucky, asshole," he sneered. "I warmed her up for you."

"Boys, boys, boys," Beth sighed, snapping out of her orgasmic reverie and noting the time on her phone. "Nicely done, Michael...surprisingly so, but to your credit, you did a wonderful job. You lead, 2-to-1!"

Michael beamed, a goofy smile on his face, offsetting Bradford's glum look.

"What's next, Mother," he asked brightly, emphasizing the name, casting a snarling sidelong glance at the dour Bradford standing next to him with his proud, huge cock flagging slightly in the humiliation of loss.

"Fourth event: You make love to me, and whoever lasts the longest wins, quite simple, really," Beth sighed, parting her legs and holding up the phone. "Michael, given your recent victory, you get to go first."

"Gladly, pretty woman," he laughed, looking derisively at his morose opponent and kneeling between his boss's spreading thighs. "This position good?"

"Of course," she growled, fisting his cock and fitting it to her furry slit, scissoring his ribs and drawing him fully inside her, sheathing his dick with her velvety cunt, making him gasp at its tightness and worry about cumming too quickly. "Begin!"

She snapped the timer on and Michael fucked her. He leaned over her on the couch, hands on the back, looking down into her beautiful face, and fucked her, long and hard, feeling his balls swell. He fought the urge and she knew it, squeezing him harder in her muscular legs, locked feet pounding on his ass.

"You want to cum right now, don't you young man!" she hissed, curling her arms around his neck, pulling his face to her sweaty cleavage. "Lick them, boy, suck your Mother's tits!"

He groaned, unable to breathe, unable to disobey her edict and he suckled her breasts madly, sweeping his tongue over the thick white flesh, lashing her nipples with it, sucking, chewing, groaning. She pumped her hips up to meet and then overpower his thrusts, controlling the action, every second of it, quickly bringing him to the edge. He felt her pussy tighten and relax, flexing, milking his pounding dick.

"Don't cum, son, don't cum too quickly!" she admonished with a snarling laugh. "Do not cum in Mother's tight...hot...cunt..."

He fought it as hard as he could, sucking her tits but forcing his mind elsewhere. He made himself think of unpleasant tasks, changing the oil in his car, sitting through boring meetings, anything that would stem the urge to cum. And then he found himself thinking of being under the table of the restaurant, sucking Bradford's cock, surely the most unpleasant thing he could think of.

Until he realized he didn't mind it. The thought of Bradford's thick dick in his mouth was having just the opposite effect he'd intended it to, and his balls boiled with anticipation. He cleared his mind again, or tried to, but was too far gone to stop.

And then it got worse. Beth unlocked her scissoring old thighs from his middle and swept her calves up and around his neck, squeezing it in their powerful, sexy embrace. He looked down into her smiling, determined face as she pressured her lower legs around his neck, again making him dizzy as she'd done with her thighs earlier.

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