Looking Up to Her Pt. 01 – BDSM

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After a twenty-five-year life of suffering in poverty, my wildest fantasies would finally become reality. In a few seconds, the lavish gold-plated elevator door before me would open onto the Slope Hill plateau and reveal my new home and Mistress.

What could go wrong? I like when things go wrong… in the right methods.

One guard stood on each side of me. They towered head and shoulders above my frail, chemically stunted body. They would be guiding me across the fountained plaza and into the possession of my new ‘caregiver’, Lady Chelsi Coventry, who’s strength and stature would make these guards look like pre-teens by comparison.

My Mistress had ordered her servants to dress me in a skimpy catboy outfit when we were on the plane. It was complete with ears, and most perversely exciting of all; skin-tight black yoga pants with a hole in them where my asshole is. I anticipated the coming humiliation with shameful lust.

My weak heart pounded with anxiety and my little hands clammed up with sweat as I waited for a new world to open up to me for the very first time.

Less than an hour ago, the guards and I were landing in a Coventry private jet at the Coventry Lake Hayes estate’s private airport, Northeast of Queenstown, New Zealand. Just a day before, I had been voluntarily abducted from my wretched life of poverty in a polluted industrial city in California.

Chelsi and I had met over Instagram only a month or two ago. She demanded I come be her little bitch-boy slave at her opulent Coventry Estate, so I happily accepted my fate. It felt like a good decision on my part, even though she basically made the decision for me. It was all I ever wanted in life, after all. She would be caring for and protecting me like a mother. I would never have to worry or fear again…

***

The gold-trimmed elevator doors slid open to the gentle warmth of the early-midmorning New Zealand sun. A large and lavish courtyard, circled by palms, stood before me. An opulent fountain and a few hundred feet were the only thing left to separate me from my new Mistress.

Her towering form was visible. Even from hundreds of feet away, her broad, shoulders — thick with defined muscle – drew my eye, draped over by gentle waves of golden hair. Her low-cut sleeveless blue top left the majority of her deeply bronzed and toned skin exposed to the kiss of the sun.

With this overwhelming view and influx of fresh, oxygen-rich air, my severe asthma symptoms had temporarily improved. But a few seconds later I felt my sinuses close. Even having taken my daily dose of inhalable medicine for my chronic allergies, the pure spring air had my airways inflamed with unfamiliar pollens.

Behind Chelsi was the extravagant palace she grew up in, made from all-natural materials. The main entrance to the mansion is a wide, primitive, Japanese-style archway of dark-red wood that rises more than a hundred feet in the air, supporting a huge flat stone roof that extends out over the stone patio and the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that faces the courtyard.

Her body towered higher with each step we took towards her. It reminded me of approaching the big mountain from a distance in my favorite MMORPG, Terth, which I had sunk 18,000 hours into over the last fifteen years.

With each step closer, the bell on my collar let out a tiny, demeaning jingle.

Running up from her ribs to the undersides of her thick, natural shoulder pads, were two sturdy, solid walls of flesh. Lats, I think? They fanned out, giving her body a “v” shape. They were crossed by nothing but tiny strips of blue silk shirt and sleeve fabric that cut off a couple inches under her arms. As muscular as she was, it wasn’t too extreme of a bodybuilder look. But it came close. Her muscle was well-balanced by her extensive and dominant skeletal frame – a symbol of authority that demands respect.

I bet a long, broad, sturdy frame like that could hold many times the amount of muscle that a stunted, fragile little frame like mine could carry. Even after a decades of training, I could likely never reach the level of strength she has now, at her young age of 25. Especially not with by breathing problems, weak bones, fucked up hormones, and effeminate bone structure.

My eyes were drawn downwards along the contours of her bronzed wings of muscle, to her toned navel and 6-pack abs. A colorful, exquisitely-crafted hippie skirt was wrapped around her pelvis… tightly… to keep it from falling down her comparatively narrow hips. The skirt was short enough to leave her legs visible from the knees down. Romanesque leather sandals clung to her feet with leather lace material rising nearly halfway up her calves.

Lady Coventry’s true stature could only be fully appreciated from up close.

Chelsi’s thick, chiseled, arms fanned outward while she rested her hands on her hips. Her expensive jewelry was prominent and her ringed fingers were just above my eye level. Not only did she have a necklace of large pearls, but a half-dozen gold and silver bracelets decorated one arm while an extravagant golden watch – which looked quite heavy – decorated the wrist of her other arm.

Her large, vascular hands had powerful fingers, each with at least one gold or platinum ring with different types of oversized gemstones.

The breadth of her chest and shoulders accentuated her lack of breast tissue. Her tall skeletal frame was so dominant, masculine, and reinforced with muscle, that even with a low-cut top, it was hard to see her breasts as anything more than a pair of tight and powerful pecs. No tan line was visible on her body.

“Wonderful!” she boomed in her ‘posh’ New Zealand accent. “My delivery crew has arrived…” Her voice was deeper than most men’s, and retained only the remotest connection to femininity. Its low-frequency vibrations could be felt in my chest from 20 feet away.

“…And you have brought me my new little kitty-boy, eh?” She bent over towards me, but her head was still a foot above mine. She looked down on me with an massive grin that showed off her perfectly straight, snow-white teeth. As the guards were disconnecting me from the leash, I returned her heart-warming smile with as cute of a smirk as I could muster, trying to bring out my dimples.

Her face went emotionless, and I flinched in shock at the sudden shift in demeanor. She straightened back up, hands back on her hips, and tilted her face up and looked down her nose at me. In the cadence of a pretentious snob, she said “You will not be welcomed into the Coventry manor unless you prostrate yourself immediately, as I instructed of you to do upon your arrival.” Each word shook me.

Burning anxiety and desire roiled inside my core as I closed the distance between us with haste. With each step forward, I focused on her feet and avoided looking up. Now is the time to humble myself before her.

As I was approaching, I noticed that, once I was within reach of her arms, It took three more steps before I could reach her. That’s a big benefit.

Even from the distance of my arm’s length, her extensive, vascular feet — well over double mine in size – stretched toward me, nestling both my silk-slippered princess feet between two thick sets of unpainted toes, decorated by more expensive-looking rings. I was in such awe of her superiority, my knees give out. I collapsed before her and my frail bones hit the stone ground, partly cushioned by her feet.

I raised myself to a crawling position. I lowered my head and was greeted by a mineral smell and a hint of leather as I pressed face against the top of her right foot — a muscle-bound, veiny paddle.

Her long, elegant toes pressed up against my chest as I lowered my bow to the ground. A slight saline flavor kissed my tongue. My puny hands were dwarfed by the scale of her ankle which I pathetically attempted to cradle.

“Please forgive me, Mistress Coventry!” I cried. My face still against her foot.

“Rise.” She said.

I stood back up, but forbade myself from looking up to meet ‘her majesty’s royal gaze’. Her belly button was two inches higher than the top of my head, and my eyes were just below where her artisan-crafted hippy skirt gave way to tanned skin. I had a prime view of her toned lower abdomen and groin muscle.

I positioned myself before her to demonstrate my submission. I groveled for her mercy, but she just moved her mammoth hand into a more accessible position near my mouth and placed the tip of her heavily ringed forefinger gently between my lips. Conveniently, her hands were already positioned on her hips just above mouth-level for me.

With my body only inches away from her legs, I softly laid both of my hands on hers and sucked her finger. It looked like a child’s grip on a large, sliced-bread sandwich. Only mom never gave me anything healthy like sandwiches. I wallowed in an erotic bitterness.

Holding my gaze straight ahead, into her upper crotch, I noticed some pubic hair rising slightly above the hem of her skirt. The clean, oily smell of her skin was pleasing, and completely absent of any other fragrance except a hint of herb.

Something in her odor made me feel wildly attracted. But there was also another smell to. Pleasant and feminine, it was wafting up from several inches below my nose. I dribbled from both my lips and my erection as I pictured it. Her pussy is only a couple inches below my mouth.

“Excellent.” There was a hint of arousal in her bass tone, which quaked through me from above. “Very nice.”

As I sucked off her finger, I admired her appendages. They were thick and even her pinky was longer than my hand, with joints and knuckles dwarfing any I had ever seen. She could clobber me to death with a single blow — like she’s level 99 in all skills and I’m permanently stuck at level 5. In my favorite game, “Terth: Wild Worlds”, your character would get taller, stronger, and broader in shoulders as you raised your physical skills or intelligence.

She didn’t bother removing the rings, since her finger was on a larger scale than my mouth and I could only fit half of it in before it hit the back of my throat.

As I finished up, I stole a quick glance at the toned powerhouse of an upper body that lied above me, glistening like gold in the morning sun, with a head so high up that its details were obscured in the top of my field of vision. I cowered at the sight of her power after averting my gaze back down.

As I let go of her hands, I noticed that her wrists were triple the width of mine. She began removing all of her rings, and her body put on a show of flexing and muscular twitches as she moved and tossed them into the lush, manicured grass beside the walkway.

“Nah-ah-ah.” She said, and gently prodded my chin up to meet her gaze. As I looked up, her face was shrouded in shadow from the mid-morning sun behind her. “You’re not getting off that easily,” She said, while waving the finger of her free hand.

Her upper body was much more intimidating from up close. The super-human breadth of her shoulders Laid upon a solid, defined abdomen and sturdy foundation of strong bones. It left me trembling with fear and lustful envy.

Without warning, I felt the warmth of her giant hand nearly cover my whole back before roughly pushing and pressing my body inter hers. The hand slowly moved up my back to my throat, feeling me up the whole way, before moving around to the front to hold up my chin to face her. I felt like dog being judged at a dog show. Her pheromonal scent intensified.

“Look into my eyes, bitch.” Fear and elation ran through me. As I looked up, I could hardly see her glacier-blue eyes and stunning face at the tip of my vision. The foreground was dominated by a towering mountain of maximally formed human bone and muscle. Her tiny blue-silk top left nipples visible from below as I looked up.

Her smirk was simultaneously evil and sexy. “Open up, little manlet. You’re not done yet!”

She kept my head looking up at hers as she held my jaw open and roughly shoved her middle finger of her other hand all the way in, down my throat… deeper than anything I’ve sucked since that jock forced me to suck his cock in front of his girlfriend. She slowly slid the finger in and out as I choked and shuddered. It’s like she’s fucking my throat.

Tears ran down my cheeks. I tried to breathe through my nose, but I have chronic allergies and my daily allergy meds don’t do anything anymore. Even if I could breathe, the finger was too far down and was blocking most air flow. I coughed lightly and gagged as she moved it in and out. Her smile grew, and the speed of her thrusts increased.

“Shhh…shhh… She’ll be right, mate. It’s ok.” She whispered. That voice was built to project far and wide, to strike fear into those subject to her, and to lead people — not to speak quietly.

Just as the lack of oxygen was starting to cloud my vision and black me out, she pulled out. A powerful suction nearly pulled the poorly-digested junk food cereal breakfast from my stomach, and I was left gasping for air like never before. My damaged lungs erupted in coughing and wheezing.

As I was still heaving breaths to regain consciousness, she bent down, wrapped her arms around behind me. A super-sized hand grasped me all along the back of my thigh, spanning from my butt to the back of my knee.

She lifted me, letting me sit on her forearm like a chair, and held me close across the front of her body. My mouth was just below her nipple, the outline of which was visible through her silk top. While my lower legs and feet hung limply, the rest of my body rested leisurely against the length of her arm, from my thigh to my head. I was completely safe and secure, high above the ground in her arms, looking up at the straight white teeth of her tanned smile.

The herbal fragrance was stronger now, along with strangely erotic body odor, as my nose was right next to her armpit. Her shiny blonde hair seemed to be lightly coated in some sort of herbal oil.

Just as I had begun appreciating the immense inequality in size and power of her arms next to mine, she forced her finger down my throat again.

“I love watching you gag and struggle to get my finger down!” The reverberation of her voice through her chest was humbling.

She laughed like a maniac as I continued to gurgle and cough. “The way you squirm… It’s just… adorable. Your pathetic resistance is entertaining to me.”

As her finger invaded my throat, I felt her long hand continuously squeezing my butt and thigh.

When she pulled out, I desperately inhaled as much air as my stunted, asthmatic lungs could take in before she continued to asphyxiate me.

Between breaths, I pleaded with her, tears in my eyes. “Mistress Conventry, please forgive me for my boldness in the messages I sent you before I left Pissburg.”

Her smiled turned sympathetic as she looked down at me like I was an innocent kitten. “I could never hold a grudge on a little darling like you… with an adorable ass!” She squeezed my thigh tightly. “You’re looking skux in your little cat costume.”

Must be more New Zealand lingo, I wondered, but it must mean something good!

I thanked her graciously.

She shifted and held me straight out at her arm’s length, facing her. I couldn’t move my arms, since they were held against my sides by her firm grip. Our eyes were level. The tips of her fingers overlapped as they reached around my back. Each of her thumbs more than covered my hairy nipples. The width of her palm spanned the length of my entire upper arm and just beyond my elbow.

My tiny feet dangled only a few inches below her vagina. I tried swinging them back and forth, but neither of them had any hope of even coming close to reaching her body.

I’m helpless.

She grinned wildly, as I looked down two long muscular arms and shoulders that more than tripled the breadth of mine and had many times as much muscle and mass. Instinct took over and I desperately squirmed in a vain to break free, until a strange calm took over.

I must fully accept complete vulnerability to her. There is no way to withstand. Accept submission to her power and control. I have no choice but to let her do as she wishes with my body. I stopped resisting.

My anxiety returned as she pulled me close to her body, her broad shoulders covered my entire field of view. I felt one hand on my butt and the other against my back, hugging me tightly against her warm chest.

“Welcome to the Coventry Estate, my adorable little wiggums!” She squeezed me tighter, compressing my lungs. Her broad palm covered most of my back. Her fingers were long enough to reach my head and press it into the base of her neck, in a nook between her well-developed trapezius. Her collar bone alone was thick enough to cover most of my cheek that lay upon it, though was largely padded by her rock-hard pectorals.

Again, the tension in my muscles was replaced by fluid tranquility as I let the side of my head and diminutive arms rest upon the broad expanse of smooth, bronzed skin above her silk top. Time slowed down in that brief moment. Like a mother, she gently rocked me. I luxuriated in her warm embrace.

I turned my head to the other side and looked across her neck and the breadth of her shoulders. Her substantial deltoid jutted into the distance like a peninsula. My shoulders were level with her armpits. I wonder if I can even reach that shoulder from here? I was too cozy to try.

The skin-tight fabric around my crotch was being stretched to the max. I savored the pressure of my maximized erection as it pressed, sideways, between the side of my pelvis and the firmly defined contours of her upper abdomen. As my erection expanded, she pressed my butt harder, squeezing and shaking, pushing and rubbing my dick back and forth against her solid abs.

My fully outstretched hand rested above her top, touching nothing but the toned skin of pectorals – rich and hydrated – with room to spare on all sides. I relished that moment; the roughness of my stubble against her smooth skin, the natural smell of her skin’s oil, body odor, and the herbs in her hair.

She smells like a hippy. Not that I knew how hippies smelled. From what I know have seen online, being a hippy is expensive. It was something I only knew about from TV and the internet. I’ve all the time had a thing for hippy women. They have all the time been so exotic to me. So radiant and pure.

The robust health of Chelsi’s body came through with her scent. She smelled superior somehow. How nature intended a powerful woman to smell.

As my mind wandered, Chelsi’s rocking slowed to a stop. She held me back out at arm’s length again, and my cock was still swollen stiff. There was an obvious spot of slimy pre-cum on the fabric around my tip. The yoga pants were stretched to the limit. It’s just like that one day in class, I wondered, remembering a dark time of infinite cock-teasing by my crush at the community school, just a few weeks ago.

I looked down to her toned stomach and saw a shiny smear where the tip of my cock had been pressed against her exposed abs moments before.

Her playful smile showed off a glorious set of perfectly straight, glowing white teeth that shined in contrast to her skin. Her flushed, tan cheeks – healthy and supple – were dotted with prominent dimples that melted my heart. I caught her glacier-blue eyes taking their time with a generous glance down at my groin, which pulsated and swelled at that very moment.

She looked back up to my face, still smiling, and licked her lips. “You’d better not cum. You don’t have permission to do that yet.” She looked giddy, like her evil plan was materializing. She all the time gets her way in life.

I swallowed nervously and leaked out a high-pitched giggle. “No, Mistress. I won’t cum. I promise!”

“Mmmmmm,” Chelsi said, “You’ll make a great toy.” She laughed with her deep rumble. “Shorter men tend to have smaller packages, but looks like you’ve been blessed compared to most.”

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