Posted on

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Contextual Note:

This story is set in the UK, and there are a few britishisms and other cultural factors to be aware of.

• James and Priyanka are eighteen years old, in their final year of school. They are preparing for their “A-Level” exams — roughly the equivalent of American SATs.

• Priyanka is a Punjabi Sikh, a community which in certain parts of England is highly wealthy and successful. She calls James a gora, which means “white” in Punjabi.

• Finally, “Asian” in the UK refers not to an East Asian (Chinese, Japanese etc.) but instead to a South Asian (Indian, Pakistani etc.). This is for historical reasons — most of the Asian immigration to the UK was from the former colony of British India.


“Don’t be nervous!” Priyanka said brightly. “I’m sure they won’t suspect anything! They don’t even know you’re my boyfriend.”

James nodded, nervously. The plan was simple: James was to go round to “study” with Priyanka Sidhu at her house — of course, in reality, they would be getting up to other things.

Priyanka put her hand on his shoulder. “Listen, my Dad really wants me to pass these A-Levels. He’s expecting big things and you know how much pressure there is from Asian families to go to a good uni and study something prestigious. My parents know how good you are at maths so they’re completely fine with you coming over and studying in my room.”

James nodded again. It would probably be fine. He should stop worrying over small things.

“And in any case, aren’t you willing to undergo a little risk for something special?” Priyanka said, and batted her lashes. James gazed into her deep brown eyes and found himself involuntarily leaning forward, as if falling into them. God, she was beautiful. Something about her petite frame, caramel brown skin, and full lips captivated him, and he wondered — not for the first time — what on earth she was doing with him.

Priyanka held his gaze, and then carefully and deliberately lowered her eyes, leading his view down her shoulders, past her side, down her shapely legs and finally resting at her feet. She had removed one foot from her plimsoll, and delicately wiggled her toes in her black tights — enough that he got the hint.

James felt his penis twitch inside his trousers. Priyanka, after all, knew exactly what he most liked about her — her dainty feet and painted toes. And as much as he loved her feet, she loved the power they gave her over him even more. A satisfied smile crept across her lips as she observed his reaction.

“Six o’clock — be there!” She said, laughing, and slipped her foot back into her shoe. “My bus is here, see you!”

She planted a light kiss on his lips, got up and flicked her raven-black shoulder over her hair as she went. James watched her go and began dreaming of the night to come.


James showed up at six on the dot. Priyanka’s mother answered the door.

“Oh, hello!” She exclaimed in deeply accented English. She turned and called something up the stairs in Punjabi. James heard Priyanka reply in the same language from somewhere upstairs, and then light footsteps as she bounced down the stairs.

“Hi James!” She grinned. “Come up.”

James smiled nervously at Priyanka’s mother, murmured a thanks, and started after his young goddess.

The house was very much unlike his. Whereas his home was light and clean, filled with whites, beiges and flat-pack furniture, Priyanka’s home had an altogether grander feel. For one, it was larger — her father was a successful businessman and the size of the home reflected it. But also, the taste was richer; dark wood furniture, heavy curtains and a soft red carpet which Priyanka’s pretty bare feet sank into as she leapt up the stairs. The house also smelled strongly of fresh home cooking and spices mingling together. It was altogether a warm and inviting impression — and the distinct Asianness of it reminded him of how far his cultural background was from hers.

Priyanka turned and smiled as he walked into her room. She looked captivating. She was dressed in a red and gold sari, with her thick black hair tied into a messy bun. As she raised her bare maltepe escort arms behind her head to fix it he couldn’t help but notice all of her features; her slender wrists, the creamy brown colour of her skin in the soft indoor lighting, the way the skin of her armpits was slightly darker but oh so inviting, the way her mischievous eyes glittered, and most of all — her cute feet. She was wearing gold anklets, as she knew he liked, and as she stood on the thick carpet her plump brown toes whitened slightly when she put her weight on them. They were small and perfectly shaped.

Priyanka noticed his gaze. “My eyes are up here,” she teased, and he blushed.

She laughed, a bright peal of laughter that enraptured him. She bounced into the room and shuffled objects around her floor as he stood awkwardly in the entrance. Her room was very messy and disorganised — clothes strewn across the floor, bags hanging off the chair, papers and books competing for space on the desk. James noticed a pair of her socks poking out from under a pair of jeans in the corner of the room, and felt a small heat creep further up his neck.

Priyanka continued “rearranging”, throwing pyjamas and a discarded sari behind her. “A-ha!” came the call, and she proudly raised up a laptop — “found it!”

She settled down onto the bed and impatiently motioned James to come and sit down. He did, smoothing the covers underneath and perching on the end while she shuffled up into the pillows at the top.

“Do you have your work with you?” Priyanka asked. James nodded in response and pulled out a maths textbook from his backpack. “I hope you know that we’re actually going to be doing some work…” she continued. “I, for one, am quite worried about this exam — so let’s study!”

James felt a little deflated. While he hadn’t expected anything serious to happen right away, Priyanka’s voice sounded firm. She clearly wanted to do some proper studying, with him as her tutor. But how was he supposed to focus on calculus when all he wanted to do was kiss those luscious Indian lips?


They had been revising for an hour, going through questions together and quizzing each other on which equations to use. James’s attention had at first been a little wanting — he was sitting at one end of the bed and she at the other, propped up on the pillows with her bare feet stretching towards him. He had forced himself to ignore his masculine impulses and the throb of his penis, slowly hardening inside his jeans. “She’s such a tease,” he had thought, “she lured me here with that cheeky smile, and we really are just studying.” Certainly, contrary to her earlier insinuations, Priyanka gave no indication at all that she knew what her anklets and uncovered toes were doing to her inexperienced boyfriend.

He was too shy to ask for anything, in any case. Resigning himself to an evening that would be less than fun, he consoled himself with the thought that he was at least making his Indian goddess happy. In fact, the idea itself even made him a little horny — that she was taking advantage of his infatuation to get some free tuition. “Damn it,” he thought as his penis twitched again, “why am I so pathetic? I shouldn’t be turned on by a girl manipulating me.”

Yet he was.

“So, what’s the answer?” Priyanka’s voice broke him out of his reverie.

“Well, that’s up to you to say. It’s your turn to be tested,” James replied.

Priyanka made a “hmm” sound, as if she was displeased by his response.

There was a brief silence. “Is something wrong?” asked James.

“I don’t like your tone with me,” Priyanka replied haughtily. “You made me feel stupid. As if I didn’t know the answer. When really I just thought it was your turn.”

James felt a nervousness creep through him. Had he said something wrong? He didn’t believe so — he was just being matter-of-fact.

“I was just answering your question,” he said hesitantly.

Suddenly, he felt a stinging pain across his face, accompanied by a “crack!” sound. He sat for a second, stunned. She had slapped him!

“How dare you!” She said in a haughty tone. “How dare you talk to me like mamak escort that!”

She leaned into him, her cold eyes level with his. Deliberately, she intoned:

“Know your place.”

James was stunned. He reached for words that would not come. She had really struck him across the face, forcefully. She had used violence against him, and he still wasn’t sure what he had even done wrong. His mind swirled with a thousand confused thoughts as he tried to comprehend what this pretty, sweet girl had just done.

There were a few moments of silence. Eyes locked with hers, James raised a hand and gingerly touched the stinging spot on his cheek where she had hit him. Staring into the deep brown pools of her gaze, he wasn’t sure whether to strike back, or cry.

Fearing that it would be the latter, he clumsily got to his feet and started towards the bedroom door.

“Stay.” Priyanka’s cool command from the bed cut through the air and stopped him dead, mid step.

Head lowered, he tried to suppress the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Behind him, he heard the light footstep of Priyanka as she approached. Her hand touched gently on his shoulder and turned him around. The wide eyes looking up at him seemed suddenly full of compassion.

Priyanka’s slender, dark fingers reached up and tenderly brushed the tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry I had to hit you,” she said in a soft voice, “but you need to understand a few things.”

She led him back to the bed and sat him down. Those soft hands which had hit him so viciously now pulled his head to her shoulder and gently stroked his hair. She began to speak.

“James, you are a very sweet boy. I’m very fond of you. But if we’re going to date, you need to realise that it will be on my terms.

I know that I can be demanding and difficult. I’ve always been that way, in fact. I’ve always liked to boss around the boys, even from when I was in primary school — and the white boys like you were always the biggest pushovers. Especially the skinny ones. That’s what drew me to you.

I feel like we’re at a critical point in our relationship now. It’s been fun up until today, we haven’t been too serious, we’ve kept it light. But now you have to make a choice.

James, I want to own you. I see your cute little face, your big puppy-dog eyes — and I want to control you. I want you to be all mine. That means that you can’t answer back like you did today. If I ask you to do something, you should do it without question, and never contradict me. If you step out of line, I will hit you, and it will hurt, but it’s not because I hate you — it’s to help you learn the boundaries.”

Here, Priyanka grasped his cheeks and pulled his face close to her. He could feel the sweet warmth of her breath on his face.

“James, if you say yes, you’ll be my boyfriend, but also something else. More like a willing servant, maybe.” A smile crossed her lips. “But I know you want that. I’ve seen how you like it when I boss you about. Isn’t it true?”

She searched in his eyes for an answer.

James was still in confused silence. Just a minute ago he had felt hurt, abused. Now, looking into her eyes, feeling the touch of her breath on his lips, smelling the hint of her perfume as she held his head close — his mind was swirling. He recognised the essential truth of what Priyanka said, and honestly, in his heart he felt deeply in love with her. But this was such a radical step, he had no precedent to help him… And what’s more, could he really agree to such terms? Allow her to hit him whenever she wanted? Had he really such little self-respect?

“Yes.” The word surprised him, and it was a second before he realised it had come from his own mouth.

Immediately it felt right, and he said it again, with a little more surety. “Yes, Priyanka, it’s true.”

Once again he cursed himself internally as the tears welled up. How pathetic, to cry at such a moment.

Priyanka, though, just smiled, and kissed his cheeks where the tears were falling. And then she kissed his lips.

The softness of her mouth against his felt exquisite. She led the kiss, twirling his ankara ofise gelen escort hair in her fingers as she did so. He relaxed entirely, and gave himself over to her. The kiss lasted what felt like an eternity, as she slowly and gently explored him with her lips, and then her tongue.

After a long time, Priyanka pulled away. James could see a devilish smile in her eyes.

“I think you should thank me, my gora servant,” she said, barely suppressing a grin. Standing before him in her sari, she ordered: “kiss my toes”.

James’s cock leapt to attention. He sank to his knees on the floor and prostrated himself before her. Imperiously, she presented her foot to him.

James drank in the sight with his eyes. Her toenails were painted a deep red, a colour which complimented perfectly her light brown toes. He could see the colour of them vary; at the knuckles the skin was slightly darker. He wasn’t sure why, but this made them look even more delectable. A gold ring on her second toe ornamented what he thought were the most beautiful feet he had ever seen.

He leant in very close, and breathed in gently. The smell was intoxicatingly feminine; though her feet were clean, the faint personal scent of her sweat was detectable. He felt her toes wriggle with a shiver as he planted a soft kiss on the tops of them.

“Each one individually,” came the command, and James obliged. As he worked his way down, kissing each brown toe on each foot, he thought he had gone to heaven.

“Good boy,” Priyanka whispered from above.


It came time for James to leave.

“I’ll show you out,” said Priyanka, “but first… a little ‘thank you’ present!” She batted her lashes coquettishly, and James felt his knees weaken.

“Close your eyes!” She ordered, and James obeyed. He heard noises around the room, and felt a knot of excitement in his stomach. First the sound of rustling on the floor. Then a sound like paper ripping. Finally, the noise of scribbling over by the desk.

Priyanka put something in his pocket, and kissed his cheek. “Look later,” she said, and giggled.


As soon as he got home, James went to his room and checked his pocket. What he saw made his mouth dry and his heart start pounding. It was a pair of Priyanka’s used socks — white, stripy ones, with the fabric on the heel and under the ball of the toe dirty from rubbing on the inside of her shoes. The was a small piece of paper sticking out of the top. James picked it out and unrolled it.

“Dearest servant,

I know what you boys are like — you can’t help yourselves. I know you will probably get yourself off later like the pervert you are. All I command is that you only ever do it while thinking of me, and surrounded by my scent. I want you to imagine me slapping you while you do it.

Happy wanking!


James’ cock was hard as a diamond and straining in his pants. Even so, he felt the confusing rush of emotions from earlier rise up in him as he read the request. She wanted him to fantasise about her abusing him…

It was awful, but with a jolt, he realised that the cruelty of the command turned him on even more. Desperately, he unbuckled his belt, threw off his trousers and underwear, held the socks to his nose and started furiously pounding his erection.

The smell was heavenly. It was recognisably the scent from when he had kissed her toes earlier, but much stronger. He imagined her divine feet walking around in those cute shoes of hers, sweating all day into the socks he now held against his face. Oh, the feminine smell and sweat of his beautiful Asian goddess! He involuntarily put his tongue to the fabric, trying to envelop his senses with Priyanka.

While he did so, he imagined and re-imagined the slap, just as she had instructed. “I want her to abuse me,” he thought, “I want her to slap me and hit me and claw me and beat me. I want to die just to please her. I want her to grab my cock and twist it until I scream. I want her to smother me under her pussy until I pass out. I want her to spit on me and call me her filthy white slave. I want my Indian princess to own me completely!”

With this thought, and the smell of the socks overwhelming him, James had a powerful orgasm, spurting his semen all over himself and the bed. A deep shiver went through his body and he collapsed back, exhausted.

In the clarity after his ejaculation, he wondered what he had really agreed to.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir