My Visit to Cape Town, Part 1 [bdsm] [real] [femdom] [extreme] [oc] [f48/m43]

This story is based on a real life experience with Mistress April of Cape Town, SA. I simply hope that the retelling of it can match the intensity of this recent visit.

I had already been in Cape Town for more than 24 hours. The 14-plus hour overnight, non-stop flight from Newark to the tip of South Africa had truly wiped me out. After arriving after 5pm local time, getting through customs and getting checked in at my hotel, I was ready for bed, even without dinner. Now after a restful sleep, and two perfect, Michelin-chef-prepared meals, my true reason for being here was starting to set in.

I had an alarm set for 8am Tuesday morning, when Mistress April advised I could email her to let her know I was ready to meet. As I laid on the bed awake from 4:30AM on, time could not have passed any slower. As I flipped through the collection of videos I had downloaded, my dominant hand fondled my cock and balls – it was truly an act of self-torture as I had been on a month-long moratorium on cumming in preparation for this visit. The dull ache in my balls simply varied in intensity, but never really went away. As the time ticked away, and my very visual imagination kicked in and his fondling turned to stroking as I thought about what the later hours of the day had in store.

Suddenly, my semi-trance state was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. I pulled up my gray sweat shorts, tucking my still hard cock in the waistband and pulled on a white t-shirt. I hollered out to let the person at the door know I was on my way.

“Don’t keep me waiting slave, this is your Mistress,” the accented voice on the other side of the door was unmistakable, and not attempting to be discreet in her reasoning for being there. “Come now slave – hurry!”

I looked through the peep hole, and could not believe my eyes. It was Mistress April standing at my door. I slid over the chain, flipped back the doorstop and clicked the deadbolt. When I opened the door, I had a moment of awe wash over me. It was that feeling you get when you watch someone in videos and on the internet for a long time and are now face-to-face, it was a strange feeling.

“What are you doing slave? Your Mistress shows up at your door, and you just stand there messing your pants, you don’t even invite her in,” as she spit the rhetorical question, I snapped from my daze just to see two passerby’s in the hall looking on and giggling. “On your knees idiot!”

I dropped to my knees and touched my nose to the carpet. In the videos I had shared with her in preparation for this meeting, the proper way to greet her was always a topic. I heard the door latch shut, and then heard the locks once again set in place, too afraid to lift my nose to look and see what was going on above me.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull this off slave, plus I always doubted you’d actually make the trip; but here we are,” she reached down and put a finger under my chin, making me look her in the eyes. “I’ve been watching you from the moment you’ve arrived. You’ve been followed by one of my associates since yesterday, and even when you were in here, I’ve been watching from that camera and that camera.”

She pointed out two, not-so-hidden Nest cams, that I hadn’t even noticed before that point. As she continued to speak, she reached into her pursed and took out a spiked tube I’d seen her with so many times before.

“You’ve already proven you can’t keep your hands off yourself, so you’re going to wear this,” she pulled the plunger forward and opened the device to show the menacing spikes inside. “And if I remember correctly, you’ve never had anything inserted in that virgin urethra, so this is going to be a lot of fun.”

She handed me a cock ring, and simply said “put this on.” That part I had worn many times before, in fact the only reason I was out of my normal steel chastity device was so that I would have no issues with airport security; especially with it being an international flight. She took a syringe from her purse and pulled it back in a position to be used. She grabbed my stiffening cock and put the tip inside, pressing down to fill my piss hole with cold lube. As I looked up at my Mistress, it was the first time I really had a chance to take account of everything. She was wearing a black leather dress with ankle boots, and from the angle I had, I could tell that was it. I could see her shining, silver clit piercings under her dress, letting me know she was not wearing panties. When I looked up at her face, I could see my own reflection in her glasses and her eyes intensely focused on the task she was carrying out.

When the lube syringe looked to be about three quarters of the way empty, she pulled it away and grabbed the cage from the desk. She slowly slid in all 10 inches of the attached sound before closing the spiked cage and locking it to the ring I positioned behind my balls. I had never felt anything like the sensation this caused in my crotch. It was a mix of pain and ecstasy coupled with extreme fear – I could actually feel the sound deep inside of me.

“Sit slave, against the side of the bed,” I followed her direction and she immediately hiked up her skirt, pressed her cunt to my face and let a stream of piss go. “Don’t let that get on the carpet slave. Did you think you were going to serve my pussy slave? I simply need you to learn my morning routine – you’re my only slave for this week.”

As I took as much piss as I could in my mouth, losing some each time I swallowed, I noticed how different this was. In the past, when I had experienced watersports or golden showers, it was a somewhat planned out, watered-down version – in this case, it was simply because her bladder was full and my mouth was available. It was salty, acidic and hard to swallow; and the yellow stains on my white t-shirt showed there were no attempts to water anything down.

“Slave, you have come here for the full experience of serving me, and that is exactly what you are bout to receive,” she continued on. “I believe I told you that my male slave is still in Europe, but now my female slave had something some up where she had to leave town – and that is why I am here a bit early to start our time.”

She stood up and pulled away, but not before using my t-shirt to wipe herself. She went through my drawers, pulling out anything and shoving it in my suitcase – she continued until everything in the room that belonged to me fit inside my one bag. She closed it up, put it next to me and extended the handle.

“Okay slave, on your feet – we’re leaving,” she said in a tone as if all of a sudden it turned into a hurry. “Bring your suitcase, we have to go.”

To be continued…

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/x6xyot/my_visit_to_cape_town_part_1_bdsm_real_femdom