Under the Wooden Walkway by Mistress Rikka

Erotic Fantasy Only: All characters, places and events are fictional.

“How did I get here?” he wonders to himself. “I was once a sane man, careful, never taking risks and playing by all the rules. And now look at me. Jerking off for a beautiful woman under a wooden walkway. Anyone could look down and see us. Why am I doing this for her?” he asks himself and then he looks across the sidewalk at her. She smiles up at him, sitting on a concrete wall covered by the same wooden walkway he is exposing himself under, and when he looks into her eyes and at that smile on her beautiful face, he knows exactly why he is doing this and why he cannot stop.

He met her a year ago and on their first night out she talked him into jerking off for her in his car in front of a crowded bar. It was so risky, so dangerous but he felt like he had no choice. He would look into her eyes and without force or aggression she could talk him into just about anything. He did not understand the power she had over him, but like a month to the flame, he came back again and again. He wanted to be controlled by her. He wanted to be on the edge, forced to do things he would never do with anyone else, anyone else other than his Mistress. So that first night, they sat in the front seat of his SUV watching people go in and out of a bar, standing in the parking lot smoking, talking and laughing, constantly walking past his car windows into the back doors of the bar, and yet he still took out his cock and jerked off for his Mistress’s pleasure. His heart pounding, mind racing, the smell of sex and fear whirling through every part of his being. Will he be caught? Will someone see? All of these questions ran through his head yet when he looked into her eyes, he could not stop himself. His will was her will. Dominated. Completely.

Tonight under that wooden walkway, it was those same green eyes staring back at him with a mixed expression of amusement and pleasure. Never a threat, never a dare, just a simple seductive suggestion and he belonged to her and her alone. He could never refuse her. “Look up,” she whispered. “There is a woman right above you.” He went to hide his cock and she said, “No. Keep going. Look up her skirt and jerk your cock for me. Keep going. I want to see you jerk your cock for me.” The sound of her voice and the look on her face made him powerless. He was under her spell from the first time he gazed at her. If anyone else asked him to do this, he would have said no way. It was as if she had taken over his mind and body. Her words penetrated him deeply and like a robot or zombie, he would just obey. While obeying, he would feel something rising within him: an erotic sense of freedom that he had never felt before.

One night he came to her house for a visit. She told him she was busy and did not feel like entertaining company, but she had a girlfriend in her back room whom was bored and would like to be entertained. He stopped dead in his tracks. He did not know this girlfriend and wasn’t certain what his Mistress meant by “entertain.” He did not ask questions. He simply followed her into the back room. When they entered the room, he saw a beautiful blond sitting naked on a bondage bed. “I am going out for a drink. You will jerk off for my girlfriend. Maybe she will play with herself as well. Call me when you are done.” As she walked away, he felt embarrassed and afraid but he knew he could not let his Mistress down. And as he undressed and began to jerk off for this beautiful unknown naked woman, he felt that erotic sense of freedom that only his Mistress could give to him and he knew that he belonged to her even when she was not in the room. He could feel those green eyes following him wherever he went along with her seductive suggestions stirring his soul.

He looked up at the wooden walkway and continued to jerk off for her as she sat on the concrete wall watching his every move. A group of people walked across, stopping to say goodbyes and sensing his panic, she rose from her seat and walked towards him. Pressing her body against his, she grabbed his cock and stroked. “Now kiss my neck,” she said. She looked right up at the wooden walkway above their heads and he could tell by the smile on her face she was hoping someone would look down and see the two of them together. Fear rose up in him but next to her, in the comfort of her arms embracing him and with the scent of her body entering his, he could not stop. Again he felt that freedom. Enslaved by beauty his soul was set free. She commanded his every move and with every command, the more freedom he felt.

A few weeks ago she had him in a dark alley. The backside of a restaurant faced them and while employees made their way in and out of the back door emptying trashcans and taking smoke brakes, she kissed him lightly on the lips and asked him to cum for her. Although it was dark, the employees could easily make out two forms in the back alleyway. He could make out their forms as well. A single light shined over their busily moving bodies and he could easily tell when one was curiously looking their way. They would not have been able to see what his Mistress was forcing him to do, but they would have known that a man and woman were standing body to body against each other and they would have suspected it was sexual in nature. Regardless, he was still terrified. Terrified that he was acting so out of character and terrified that he was so willing to surrender himself. But even the terror was a rush he could not resist. The rush, the insane, out of control rush she gave him every time they met broke down his barriers again and again. Compelled by her as he always was, he obeyed her every wish and was set free. Controlled and set free by his Mistress all at once.

A waitress walks across the wooden walkway and a customer stops her to order a drink. His Mistress jumps up and knocks on the underside of the walkway. Gasping, he frantically tries to get his cock back in his pants. “No,” she whispers. “They will just think we are kissing. They will never know what you are really doing for me.” She removes her warm hand from his wet, hard, throbbing cock and tells him to keep jerking. He looks up nervously through the cracks in the wooden walkway to see if anyone is looking down. Everything is fine so he closes his eyes and begins to jerk off again for the Mistress. The comforting warmth of her body has left his and as he slowly opens his eyes, he sees her sitting on the concrete wall again with her legs spread and her hands moving up and down her stockings. From her open toed high heel shoes, along her tone calves, past her knees and up to her inner thighs. Those green eyes piercing the depths of his soul, he feels a desperate need to please her endlessly and so he continues to jerk his cock for his Mistress without fear of who will see. The fear leaves his body and the freedom takes over. Freed by his Mistress. Owned yet free.

He thinks about the last time he took a woman home with him. His Mistress told him that if he wants to have sex with a woman he must call her and ask permission. He thought it was a simple and sexy request until he got her on the phone and asked for permission to fuck a beautiful and horny red head. “No. You will eat her pussy. You will eat her ass. You will make her cum for me. She will cum for me, not for you. And once she is satisfied, you will jerk off in front of her for me. And you will cum all over her ass for me. And then…” she paused and she could feel her wicked controlling smile, “you will lick every last drop off of her ass for me.” He was terrified with thoughts of what the beautiful red head would think, but he understood now that the Mistress’s request for permission of sex with other women was her way of controlling and freeing people she never met. People who knew nothing of her existence or how they were suddenly part of her world. So he humiliated himself for her and although she was 100 miles away, she enslaved and set them both free.

Under that wooden walkway, he feels both the enslavement and the freedom as he watches his Mistress spread her legs, expose her perfect pussy and play with herself. He strokes his cock and no longer asks himself how he ended up in a risky position, no control over his body and mind. He is there to please her and by pleasing his Mistress, he is truly free. More free than he has ever been. He does not have to think, only obey and please and with that, all of his inhibitions have left him. A woman in heels walks across the wooden walkway and this time, he looks up and does not hide himself in shame. He is safe in the presence of his Mistress. He no longer needs to feel ashamed of his desires. He has been set free. He looks down at his Mistress, her green eyes, the smile on her face and her sweet, wet pussy and he continues to stroke his cock for her.

Just last week she asked him to go to the restroom in a crowed restaurant. As he waited in line, she came up and kissed him fiercely on the lips, grabbing his cock and making it hard. Nervously, he pulled away and caught the stares of envious college boys drinking and playing video games in the bar hallway. Blushing, he hung his head down and begged, “Not here, please.” Unheard, when the bathroom opened, she dragged him in by his cock, all eyes following the two. Slamming the door behind her she ordered him to drop his pants and jerk off for her. He could hear laughter and talking outside. “They think we are fucking. They think you are lucky. They have no idea you are my slave. Now jerk my cock for my pleasure.” And with that, she rested her back against the bathroom wall and the devilish smile he was so familiar with spread across her face. He could not resist. He can never say no to her. She owns him. She frees him. He will do anything for her. And so he unzipped his jeans, pulled out his cock and began to stroke for her.

And now, under that wooden walkway while her green eyes watch every move he makes and while she teases him with her wet pussy, he strokes without fear, without shame, without guilt. She owns him and he is free under her ownership. Above the wooden walkway life goes on: heels click, cigarettes lit, hello’s and goodbye’s exchanged, but under the wooden walkway, life is filled with passion, desire, freedom and enslavement. A freed slave under the wooden walkway.

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