La Contessa Ch. 10

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Chapter 10: The Bath

Julia sends a message to let me know La Contessa wishes to see me. Apparently she has invited special guests today and wants to arrange an entertainment for them during the afternoon. I’m told by Julia to arrive naked and stand at the door until La Contessa is ready for me. I knock on the door, and Julia’s voice confirms I can enter.

I’m taken aback when I enter the boudoir as La Contessa is still in her bath. There’s a massive brass tub in the centre of the room and she’s still wallowing deep in the steaming water. I see nothing indiscreet because she’s covered in the foaming and perfume infused waters. Nonetheless, I’m surprised I should be invited into her chamber whilst she’s in this state of undress. Julia tells me to wait whilst La Contessa finishes her bath.

I’m drawn into this little vignette, which reveals a lot about the relationship between Julia and her mistress. La Contessa is luxuriating in the hot water, her eyes closed, her head resting against the high back of the bath, her arms draped over the side as Julia bathes her. She has a sponge and perfumed lozenge of soap in her hand and is washing La Contessa. What strikes me is the tenderness and attention Julia gives her mistress. She’s revelling in every touch as she runs the sponge over La Contessa’s shoulders and breasts, her cleavage visible above the water.

“Mm, that feels delightful, Julia. It’s so lovely to wallow in a hot bath.”

Julia dips her hand further into the tub. I imagine her running the sponge across her mistress’s crotch underneath the water, an image I can’t get out of my head. It’s hard to accept the little moans of pleasure coming from La Contessa’s lips are solely from the luxuriant hot water. And Julia has a dreamy expression on her face suggesting she’s getting sensual pleasure from the act of bathing her mistress.

“Your skin is so soft, madam.”

“Thank you, Julia. The oils you got from the Chinese merchant at the Rialto Market have helped, and they smell gorgeous.”

“I believe it’s jasmine oil, madam.”

“Yes, I recognise the aroma,” replies La Contessa.

Once again I’m fascinated by this relationship between Julia and her mistress. I’ve heard her speak of the pleasure she gets from being La Contessa’s personal maid. Seeing the way she touches her, and the mien of her face as she ministers to her mistress suggests more than mere job satisfaction. My suspicions are only added to by what happens next.

Julia finishes bathing her mistress, and La Contessa stands up in the bath. I get to see her naked body from behind for a fleeting moment before Julia wraps a white towel around her. For a second I get to admire the statuesque figure and the voluptuous curve of her hips and backside. Mistress and maid are both beautiful, but in different ways. Julia is shorter than her mistress and rounder and cuddlier whereas La Contessa is tall and imperious. Hers is a commanding presence, her maid is more comely.

Julia escort beşevler wraps the fluffy white sheet around her mistress enveloping her in an embrace. She pulls La Contessa’s body close to hers and rubs her mistress attentively whilst drawing in the aroma of her freshly soaped and oiled skin. Again I’m struck by the sensuality of Julia’s touch. I doubt such intimacy between a lady and her maid is normal nor would it be permitted in most aristocratic households. I’m drawn away from my musings by La Contessa’s sharp words.

“Avert your eyes, slave.”

Obviously I say nothing of my glance at her naked back. I turn away and hear Julia collect something from the dressing room. When I’m told I can look up, Julia has slipped a dressing gown onto La Contessa. It’s Chinese silk and decorated with two dragons. Her breasts swell underneath the material where it’s been pulled tight across her chest, offering a glimpse of her cleavage. I make an effort to restrain my natural urges and resist the erection building up in response to the sensual delights before me, or I’ll get into trouble. With considerable willpower I manage to do so.

“So, my slave, now to the task I set you of cleaning my shoes.”

I’m anticipating a severe reprimand and punishment for a failure in detail or minor blemish left on one shoe.

“Yes, mistress,” I reply.

“I must say, slave, I have inspected a sample of my footwear and I’m extremely impressed. I could find no fault in the work you carried out for me. I have heard glowing reports from my household staff of the dedication to which you applied yourself to the task. I must say I’m delighted, as my shoes have never looked so shiny. You must have worked hard to achieve such outstanding results.”

“Thank you, mistress.”

“You worked so hard I suspect you must have enjoyed the task, my slave. Is this the case?”

I try to choose my words carefully, as I suspect a trap is being laid for me, “Yes, mistress, it’s always a pleasure to do a service for you, mistress.”

“So, my slave, did you get pleasure from handling my boots?”

“The pleasure is in serving you, mistress,” I persist.

“No, slave, I believe you are wilfully misunderstanding me. Did you get sexually aroused? Did touching the soft kid skin leather turn you on? Did you get a hard-on dreaming of your mistress in her exotic footwear?”

Ah, I’ve been found out, and there’s no point trying to hide it from her. I confess, “Yes, mistress, I did get an erection from handling your shoes.”

“Yes, I thought so. So, there you are hidden in the scullery with a barrow load of shoes with a stiff cock as you imagine your mistress doing unspeakable things to you whilst wearing said footwear. And did you wank, slave?”

“No, mistress, I promise I did not,” I say honestly, but hiding the fact of how I did get my relief.

“It’s irrelevant; the mere thought of treating your mistress like a sex escort balgat object or getting sexual pleasure out of visualising her, is enough. Do you understand this, slave? Having those thoughts alone is enough to anger your mistress.”

“I’m sorry, mistress. I promise, I do understand.”

“I’m not so sure you do. I think there has to be a punishment for having these filthy thoughts about your mistress. Fetch my slave a pair of boots, Julia; the knee length black ones with the row of silver buckles and laces, which I understand were my slave’s favourites.”

La Contessa sits on a chair as Julia hands me the boots.

“Now put them on me, slave,”

As I kneel before her, La Contessa’s dressing gown parts slightly, enough for me to appreciate the elegant curve of her ankle and to get a peek up at her shapely legs. I loosen the cords and ease La Contessa’s delicate foot inside, pulling it gently until it’s nestled comfortably in the boot. I wind the laces around the silver hooks and tighten them. I repeat the same exercise for the other boot.

Once the boots are on, La Contessa stands up whilst I’m still left kneeling on the floor. She lets the silk dressing gown slide off her back until she stands naked, save for the leather boots. I take a peek and gasp. It’s an awesome sight, and one I was not expecting to experience. She’s an imperious and voluptuous figure, and acutely aware of it. And she uses it to full effect, teasing me with her untouchable sensuality. La Contessa sits down again.

“Yes, you did a good job of polishing these boots for me slave, but not good enough. I don’t think the bees wax is adequate. These boots need special treatment. These boots need licking clean.”

The handling of La Contessa’s feet, the aroma of her perfume mixed with the wax and leather is too much for me. I try to ward it off desperately, but to no avail. My cock springs into a hard erection.

“Oh dear,” says La Contessa with disdain. “It appears you cannot control yourself, slave. Now lick my boots,” she orders, “I want every inch cleaned with your tongue.”

I get down on all fours and bend over her feet. One of La Contessa’s legs is stretched out for me and I nestle the boot in my hands. I start with the metal tip of the heel. I wrap my tongue around licking it fastidiously. I run my tongue along the sole of the boot, making sure I cover every inch. I work my way up the boot, ensuring I lick clean each silver eyelet and the tiniest triangle of leather between the laces. I do this in silence as La Contessa stretches back in her chair and observes each kiss and lick of the shiny leather.

When I’ve covered every inch of both boots, she orders me to stand. Unfortunately for me, I fear, my prick is still hard. She takes my cock in her hand. She runs her fingers along its length, and its throbbing veins.

“No control, no self-discipline. Take your cock in your hands and wank for me slave. Kneel before escort batıkent me and wank over my boots as an act of humiliation.”

“Yes, mistress,” I reply.

I take my cock in my hands and hold it over one of the boots stretched out before me and masturbate. By now, I’m desperate for release but doubt La Contessa will allow it. I rub my cock furiously to please her and feel the orgasm pulsing inside me. It’s imminent and I don’t think I can hold it back.

“May I have permission to come, mistress,” I splutter.

“Yes, you may slave. But make sure your spunk falls on my boot.”

I’m so relieved. I don’t think I could have held it back any longer. I groan desperately as the pressure builds up in my cock and I can do nothing to hold it back. It spurts over La Contessa’s boot. There’s a copious volume of spunk in thick white globules. I continue rubbing to squeeze every drop out of my cock.

“Thank you, mistress. Thank you,” I gasp in relief at my release.

“Thank you? Why are you thanking me? This is for my pleasure, slave. This is to humiliate you and teach you a lesson in discipline. I trust you know what you must do next.”

Then it strikes me what penance there will be for allowing me to come in her presence. I understand automatically what I must do. I cannot leave her beautiful boots in this condition. I know I must clean the spunk off… with my tongue.

I undertake the task enthusiastically, licking the blobs of spunk from the boot and swallowing the thick, salty substance. And yes, it’s gloriously humiliating. But I love every minute of it, love kneeling at the feet of this dominant mistress, carrying out this disgusting act at her command.

La Contessa puts her dressing gown back on and offers me a last word of advice, “You must understand, slave, carrying out deeds is all very well but servitude in its purest form is in the mind. You can do tasks for me with dedication and efficiency, but there is more. You must learn this to be truly submissive.”

“Yes mistress. Thank you mistress.”

“Now, let me turn to this afternoon’s proceedings. I have my guests arriving soon and have laid entertainment on for them at which I need my slave’s presence. Julia, would you do the honours for me in preparing him?”

Julia is standing with a garment made of leather straps and buckles. Under the watchful gaze of La Contessa, she starts by threading my, now flaccid, cock through a metal ring and then tightening a band around my waist with a buckle.

“You may try to arouse him if you wish, Julia, but he will incur my wrath if he gets another erection. My slave has had more than enough sexual gratification for the day.”

Another two straps are passed through the crack in my arse and buckled to the waist strap. The leather digs into the flesh and serves to compress my backside, making my bum cheeks stand out; I suspect to make them a nice fleshy target for something… or somebody.

Further straps run diagonally across my body and are fastened to the waist band. By the time Julia has finished, I’m neatly trussed up in leather straps whilst leaving the most sensitive flesh exposed.

“Excellent, Julia. Now, my slave, you must go to my games room and await me and my guests there.”

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