During my 10 years as owner of a food-catering service in Central Virginia, I have had the pleasure of meeting and serving just about every agency, group, or association in my area.  So when I got a message on my business voice mail that a group called "BDS" needed some light snacks and drinks for their meeting that evening, I was taken aback because I had never heard of such a group.

The woman's voice was very deep, and raspy but direct and confident.  "I am leader of BDS and we are having a meeting and need a cheese and fruit tray and some drinks . . . the meeting starts at 8 p.m., you be here at 7:30 p.m., thank you." Click. That was it.

But, by the stern, confident tone of her voice, I knew that she was black woman and that she meant business.  My company was short staffed that day, so I had to set up the food and utensils and operate the catering for the event myself.

That evening around 7:30 p.m., I range the door bell of the address that the woman left on the answering machine.  I could hear voices on the other side of the door. And then I heard what sounded like heavy high-helled foot steps, approaching very quickly.

The door opened.  "You must be the caterer," said the tall, black woman.  "My name is Zena." She said, looking at me with disgust.   "Come in." She said sternly.  My mouth must have been hanging open because I couldn't believe my eyes.  The sight of this black woman literally took me by surprise.  She was gorgeous, clearly over 6 feet tall.  And the short skirt she was wearing revealed every muscle and curve of her legs.  And I took a quick glance at her feet as I passed through door's threshold.  I took a guess that she wore a size 11.  And the boldest array of veins of the tops of her feet showed through her sheer black stockings.

"Yes, my name is David of David's catering Service."  I said, stumbling over my words.  She didn't respond as she lead in front of me.

"You can set up over there." She said pointing to a table beside a sofa that was supporting more black ladies, who were smoking cigarettes and talking.

When they saw me, they got silent. At first, their stares at me were cold. Then they looked at each other and smiled as if they told a mental joke about me. You see, I am a short, frail white man. One minute before I started to set up, I read a card on another table that had the explanation for the letters "BDS."  It said: "First Meeting Of The Black Dominatrix Society." I quickly assumed that all of these ladies were dominant black women.

"Everyone, this is Dave." Zena announced.  The women just gave me sinister smiles.  "And David is our caterer."  Zena then firmly placed her strong hand on my shoulder.  "Dave, in case you don't know, this is the first meeting of the Black Dominatrix Society." She said. "And in case you don't know what that means, all of the ladies you see here know--without a shadow of a doubt--that they are totally superior to all men.  And I am the leader of this group, so you can understand how powerful I am." Zena continued. The sound of authority in Zena's voice and the looks of the ladies' faces--which quickly turned stern and mean when Zena spoke of female supremacy--made my arms shake the potato chips in the bowl that I was carrying.

"Put that bowl down right now!"  She said, with her voice raising.   "I'm going to go around the room and introduce these powerful black ladies, so that you will show the respect and honor we are due."

With her long index finger, she pointed to an attractive black lady, wearing a long skirt.  "This is Ann, she is the top lawyer in this area and she is extremely dominant."  By the end of her introduction, Ann had crossed her legs and raised her skirt above her knee and she started to dangle her shoe.  Ann's right shoe was hanging on the longest set of toes I had seen.

Zena continued. "Next to Ann is Jackie.  Now Jackie owns an advertising agency and she doesn't take any shit from anybody." As soon as Zena said that, Jackie, whose large breasts could hardly be contained in the blouse she wore, stood up slowly and blew out a strong steam of smoke from her cigarette.  "That's right, and don't you forget it!" She said in a low, mean voice.  She was just as tall as Zena, and no less intimidating.  Then she sat down.

"And next to Jackie is Linda, who owns several businesses in the state." Linda just looked at me with a stone-face. I noticed that she was dressed casually and wore moccasin shoes without socks or stockings.  I started to wonder how nice and sweaty her feet must have been.

"Standing by the sofa, is Patricia.  Patricia belongs to me." Zena said.  Patricia was shorter than Zena and heavier, but looked great.  "And my name is Mistress Zena--I am THE black Goddess.  I put this group together because I am the most feared and respected black woman around."  The ladies all nodded in agreement. "Dave, not only are you going to serve us, but you will worship us as well.   Understand?"  Mistress Zena said.  "Do you know what that means?"

I cleared my throat.  "Well, I have read some magazines, you know, about foot fetishism and all . . ."  Then she interrupted me. "Oh, so you have a foot fetish, huh wimp?"  I looked at Mistress Zena and glanced at the rest of the ladies and saw gleams of laughter in their eyes.

"We have a foot worship agenda here at BDS.  Our agenda is to put every male worm and wimp in this country in their place, which is under our black, beautiful feet!"  Mistress Zena was starting to get angry. "We will not rest until we smother every man's face with our feet and have them say out loud that their place is under the feet of the black woman."

Mistress Zena then said to me, "You disgust me, boy!"  Then all the other ladies said in one stern voice,  "Yeah, me too.  Mistress Zena. Let's teach this white boy a less!!"  The women, including Mistress Zena were very angry. "Take off all of your clothes right now wimp!"  Mistress Zena ordered as the rest of the women stood up.  I had no choice but to comply with their order. When I was naked, Mistress Zena ordered me to lay down a few inches in front of the sofa. "Here's the plan," she told the ladies.  "We're going to make this wimp totally submissive to us and we're going to do it with good old fashioned foot fetishism." Mistress Zena said, as if I weren't even there.

She told Linda to sit down where my head was. She explained, "You have the sweatiest feet by wearing your leather moccasins without anything on your feet."  Linda gave Mistress confirmation.  "Oh, yes indeed, my feet are soaking wet with sweat." Linda said with a smile. Linda hovered over me for a second, sat down and took her shoes off and began to smother my face with her hot, sweaty feet.  Immediately, my cock got hard.

"Oh, I see he likes your feet, Linda." Mistress Zena said in a teasing way. I heard the thump of Mistress Zena's foot steps charge toward me. "Get that cock down, now!" she said as she kicked my cock with her leather high-heeled shoe. "I said now!" Mistress Zena yelled.  Her powerful voice and the fact that I didn't know if I were going to make it out of there alive seemed to take the life out of  my cock. "Good slave . . . We are giving you and your little cock some training her--foot fetish training.  You will not get hard until we--the Black Dominatrix Society--give the permission.  You will not disrespect us by taking it on yourself to get aroused!   We are in total control here, do I make myself clear, wimp?!!"  Mistress Zena was livid with anger.

"Yes Mistress Zena." I managed to say through Linda's sweaty feet and toes. Mistress Zena then continued giving orders.

"Now Jackie and Ann, I want you two to use your feet to hold his thighs firmly down."  I could feel yet two more pairs of soft sweaty stocking feet on my thighs.  My cock started to get hard again.

"What did I just get finished telling you, wimp?"  Mistress Zena said. She then kicked and my cock and put her heel lightly over my balls. "I have the power to crush your balls and end your manhood--such that it is--right now."

I started to beg," Please Mistress Zena, have mercy on me!"

"You'll have to do much better than that." She said, gently applying pressure to my balls. Linda let her feet give an opening over my mouth.  I then screamed with all my might.

"Please forgive me, Mistress Zena and the rest of the Black Dominatrix Society!!   I am a wimp and am so sorry for disrespecting you powerful Black Women!"   A tear started to drool down my check.

"He's learning ladies, you see that?" Mistress Zena said with a sadistic laugh. The rest of the ladies started laughing too.

Then Mistress Zena announced that she was going to mount my chest.  She took off her shoes. She was searing black stockings with re-inforced toes and heels. But Mistress Zena's toes were even longer than Ann's. She put her nylon-clad feet dead center on my chest and stood as if she had conquered a beast. Then she stooped to look into my face. "I am Mistress Zena, the Black Goddess." She said.  I could see her cold eyes staring into mine through Linda's toes. "We are dominant Black women.  you and the rest of your male species will always respect and honor all women, especially us dominant Black ladies. You were put here to serve us."
 
At that point, my cock was stiff as a board.  Having Linda's sweaty feet smothering my face, Ann's and Jackie's soft feet on my thighs and the weight of Mistress Zena on my chest was more than I could handle.

"He's hard again, Mistress Zena." I could hear Ann say. Mistress Zena's eyes squinted in disgust. But this time she stared into my eyes as if she was trying to put me into a trance. "Get that cock down, now!" She said in a calm, low but angry tone. Within seconds, I could feel my cock sink. "Good." she said.  "Now, little Dave. I will put your training into overdrive."  I couldn't wait to hear what she was going to say next.

She told Linda to keep her spot.  She told Ann to rest her right foot on the top of my cock so that her long toes could be at the tip. "I want to see if we can make him squirt between your toes, Ann." She explained.  Jackie's job was to stand on my chest in her stocking feet.

Then Mistress Zena announced her role. "I will put his cock between my feet and stroke his cock up and down." The moment she said that, she told me, "Wimp, your job is simple:  As I stroke, you will get erect, with Linda's sweaty feet in your face, Jackies weight on your chest, Ann's long toes rubbing the tip of your cock and me soft, sized 11 black feet jerking you off.  But with each one of my strokes, you must recite this sentence:  I believe a Black female supremacy.  Is that clear?" I only nodded.

"Is that clear!!!!!??"  Mistress Zena yelled again. "Yes, stern Mistress Zena, that is very clear!"  I answered with passion.