I disrobed from my civilian clothes and removed my lingerie, carefully placing it on the shelf in the wardrobe. The dress code was simple and under stated, but screamed Dominatrix. I slipped on a luxurious leather thong. Onyx in colour, it was perfectly apportioned to eclipse my pussy but showcase my behind, exasperating the subs lucky enough to see it. Next, I squeezed into my hand-made and skin tight black leather corset dress. Steel boned, lined in satin and fully tailored, it had over the numerous occasions it had been worn, moulded to fit the contours of my body perfectly. The sweetheart bust line, meant my tits always teasingly teetered on the brink of escape but never quite achieved full liberation. Adorned with elegant cord lacing to the rear and a modesty panel, it was fixed in place by seven busk fasteners, which thankfully I was able to secure single-handedly. Finished off by six feature suspender loops, I skilfully attached a pair of provocative black stockings embellished with a red seam. The whole outfit was completed by stepping into a pair of red six inch heels direct from Pleaser, USA in the same shade of red as my lipstick and nails, aptly titled Lust, Pantone colour 1788.
Conventionally prompt, business boy’s knock on the door came at precisely half an hour after I had left him in the bar. I opened the door to be greeted by a man that seemed strangely smaller in stature, but nevertheless I gestured for him to come in. His apprehension was apparent and his nerves noticeable as he crossed not only the threshold but what appeared to also be for him, an invisible and significant line. I was sure that in business boy’s other world he was ultra-powerful and continuously in control but in the domain of a Dominatrix there is a power shift. A juxtaposition prevails where intentions that some would argue are immoral, are unstated but understood.
“Mistress, please may I say how amazing you look?” sub asked, his politeness was obviously programmed into his hard-wiring.
“You may” I replied, adding “On the condition that you worship Goddess in any way that she sees fit”.
I could see sub’s surprise at my suggestion as he clearly wasn’t used to being told what to do. However, he did not hesitate in offering his unequivocal pledge to servitude even if it was only in a transitory kingdom of kink. With deliberately exaggerated hip movements I made my way towards the occasional chair and conspicuously made myself comfortable, crossing my luscious nylon clad legs, ensuring that there was a gentle glimpse of stocking top. My posture and authoritative aura left sub in no doubt that for this afternoon, at least, the power rested firmly with Mistress. As I settled in to my throne, I felt an air of dominance exude from deep within me and subsequently emanate into the developing dynamic. I was ready to begin another journey and take Dom not dom with me.
As sub stood before me, head bowed, arms alongside almost akin to some poor pitiful wretch at the court of an all-powerful monarch, I dutifully surveyed my land.
“Take off your shirt” I commanded, my eyes never once leaving my slave in waiting.
Dutifully, sub removed his attire. His chest was toned, and his pecs were visible despite being covered in chest hair that had definitely developed way beyond puberty. Next, I directed him to remove his boots, socks and jeans. He had omitted to wear any form of underwear and this had resulted in a now stark bollock naked sub standing before a slightly startled but significantly impressed Mistress. With a semi erection and no pubic hair, shaved as advised, his cock projected forth, its pre-cum oozing and pooling before dripping on to the floor. For such a strong man, sub seemed suitably subdued, exposing a suggestive sense of vulnerability as I beckoned him closer for a full inspection and appraisal.
My next demand was informed by the fact that I suddenly remembered he had a formidable fetish for heels.
“On your knees sub and worship my fucking heels”.
Sub obeyed my dictat directly, dropping to his knees and immediately started licking the front of my precious Pleasers. His tongue embracing every inch of the patent pleasure givers and making the aptly entitled footwear shiny with its wetness. Making his way to the rear of the shoe and commencing at the counter and working down to the heel, I could see his dick had hardened further and that juices were freely escaping from the tip of his penis. It was time to ramp it up and turn a pair of perfect Pleasers into shoes of prey as I commanded him to deep throat the heels like a proper prick sucking sissy would, consistently chastising him for making such a mess on an otherwise perfectly clean carpet. At no time did sub dare to make eye contact with Mistress, but simply continued to suck and lick and lick and suck until my footwear was proficiently polished.
“Well done sub, you have shown Mistress respect”. I acknowledged his efforts.
“Mistress feels sub has earned a small reward for his paltry efforts, so you can arise from your knees and bend your ass over that work desk over there”. I pointed to the multi-purpose dressing table at the end of the bed.
With added advice of “and make sure you grab on tight” the half humiliated sub made his way across the room and I followed, on arrival using my well-heeled foot to spread his legs as far apart as they would go. This would stop sub from being able to clench his butt cheeks and make his ass perfectly relaxed, expose his hole and his balls and detain him in a position of desired humiliation.
“Now it seems to me sub that you’re an educated kind of man, and I would imagine that such a sub can count particularly well, is that correct?”. I canvassed him for an appropriate answer.
His reply was conveyed somewhat nervously, “ Yes Mistress, that is correct, I can count”.
“Of course it’s fucking correct you worthless sub, it’s correct because Mistress says it’s fucking correct” came my retort, wholly worthy of a leather decked Domina.
Sub grovelled apologetically. “Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress, of course Mistress”.
With a disinterested disposition I furthered the conversation. “Then pick a number between ten and twenty and add a further ten to that”.
Sub hesitated, which infuriated me. “In your own time sub, but today would be fucking nice” I growled.
“Err, erm, seventeen Mistress, seventeen, so, erm add ten... that makes twenty seven Mistress, twenty seven” came the eventual response.
“Then twenty seven it is sub” I offered in agreement, “And what is twenty seven divided by three sub?”
“Nine Mistress, it’s nine”. Sub didn’t linger before giving his response this time.
“Nine it is. Correct again sub, what a clever boy. So by Mistress’ reckoning that’s nine spanks from each of my floggers”, with which I picked up the smaller of the two black leather paddles and made my presence felt across sub’s right buttock, the ensuing rosy glow demonstrating its appreciation.
Sub flinched a little as the slap touched base with the bare skin. “Count sub, how many was that?”
“One Mistress, thank you Mistress”. To which I landed another perfect aim but this time to his left buttock.
“Two Mistress, thank you Mistress” came sub’s obligatory gratitude, and with it another blushing butt cheek. With only a fleeting flinch from sub, I continued to chasten him until I had reached the regulation nine spanks.
The subsequent slaps were to be administered by the paddle that was formed of three individual floggers. Its design delivering a stinging sensation which lingers and consequently makes it not for the faint-hearted. However, in proficient hands and held in the correct position it is easy to spank a sub’s rear-end at the correct angle, whilst limiting the possibility of a blow falling too high or too low.
As I utilised my ‘upper-hand’ to impart the tenth lash, sub let out a distinct ‘argh’, and in compliance articulated the correct number. Almost instantaneously tiny red welts began to appear on his deliciously exposed ass. Each lash delivered a satisfying thwack sound as it made contact with each alternate ass cheek, and every time sub continued to count correctly. As the eighteenth stroke was imparted, sub�
�s skin was blistered on his now ruby red behind but his dick was dripping with delight.
Befitting of the finale to come sub protruded his ass further, inviting Mistress to let the cat out of the bag. In response I reached for my piece de resistance, a beautiful yet brutal cat o’ nine tails. As sacred as its name sake in ancient Egypt and capable of conveying formidable flagellation, it would leave scratches reminiscent of a feline and distribute sexual intensity from top to toe. Indeed, an accomplished masterpiece worthy of its place in any BDSM armoury. Progressively building up a rhythm and utilising both hands I deftly administered the nine woven and knotted flails, methodically inflicting nine lucky whip marks which of course would heal without any scars. As I sagely explained to sub, people’s greatest punishment usually comes from themselves.
Whilst ‘The 27 Club’ is often associated with bad luck, for business boy it was his lucky number, and if eyes are seen as windows to the soul, then sub’s showed me that this lustful sinner was consumed with sexual gratification. Nevertheless, Domination is very much about pacing the pleasure and I felt it only fair to offer sub some rest and recuperation and a little down time from this Dominatrix.
“On the bed sub, on your back, arms and legs at each corner”.
Once sub had positioned himself as instructed, the next step was to secure him in place, ensuring that any cunning escape plot he may have would be satisfactorily foiled. In readiness, sub eagerly assisted by offering up his wrists and ankles to Mistress’ bondage. I reciprocated by fastening the fur lined cuffs tight around his limbs and despite sub making a pathetic but failed bid for freedom, he was left suitably spread-eagled on the bed. His cock had softened somewhat which made it an opportune moment to encase it in the stainless steel cock cage and commit it to a temporary life of enforced chastity. In preparation I pulled on a pair of the black gloves I had brought with me and grabbed the offending item which actually comes in two separate sections. The first thing you must do when fitting a two-piece chastity device is to position the cock ring. There are two types of ring, a solid one and a hinged one. Which to use it very much a matter of personal choice, although my preferred design is the latter as they are so much easier to fit and the hinge itself can often cause a little discomfort which is not a bad thing. It’s the cock ring that holds the whole device in place securely, which means fitting it correctly is very important.
Opening the ring as far it would go I placed it behind sub’s balls and closed it. Applying a small amount of lube to sub’s glans and shaft I placed the tip of his penis in the cage and gently glided the rest of it down his cock until it was fully installed and could go no further. Lining the hole in the cage with that in the cock ring, I secured the padlock in place. The telling click signifying to sub that he was locked and loaded and should be ready to embrace his prescribed celibacy, and his whimper telling Mistress that the rigid cage was unforgivingly restrictive. I afforded sub a cursory glance and offered some rudimentary advice, “I think Mistress should make you shut the fuck up sub!”.
Sub knew as I collected the ball gag and the nipple rings from the desk that his feeble bleat was about to be quelled and that he was powerless to stop it. Gags have connotations of both control and punishment and for that very reason I often like to use them as a form of humiliation. Most ball gags in my collection are made of solid rubber or silicone, and have a leather strap which passes through the diameter of the sphere. As sub was a novice in the art of BDSM I had decided to use a forty four millimeter wiffle gag instead. This is a simple but effective gag which replaces the solid ball with a light plastic one that is safer as it allows a constant airflow once secured around the head. Whilst the gag wouldn’t silence sub completely it would render his speech completely intelligible with any attempt at talking causing excessive drooling and thus humiliating him further. Business boy’s total submission was completed by the installation of a pair of chrome rubber tipped adjustable nipple clamps capable of delivering a gentle squeeze to an intensely painful pinch courtesy of a simple screw on each one. As I tightened the screw fully sub released a sexually charged moan barely audible through his ball gag.
With my submissive unable to exit, but clearly trying to pre-empt my next strategic move in the game of inches, it was time to get down to business. I loaded my non-latex clad fingers with a generous helping of anal relaxant which would also serve as lubrication for sub’s virginal ass. Although sub had pleasured himself from time to time with his purple peril, he had never experienced pure penetration at the hands of a Mistress. As I was about to make sub’s dreams come true, this innate yearning was about to be fulfilled. Skilfully competent and of course well trained, I surreptitiously inserted the index finger of my right hand into sub’s anal cavity. His anus offered significant resistance to this perceived violation and as I pushed further I could feel the muscles contracting. Sub and I had earlier discussed and agreed the use of suitable safe words and had opted for the universally tried and tested traffic light system. Green meaning go, amber for proceed with caution and red for stop, as per driving a vehicle upon any highway so to speak. Prior to proceeding further into the shaven asshole, I would of course need to confirm sub’s colour of choice, which would require removing the now bedded in ball gag.
As his mouth was liberated, sub let out a definitive “Green Mistress, definitely green” and with my finger delving deeper into the unknown, sub was clearly straining in the confines of his cock cage. Ever responsive to a sub’s needs I decided to release his dick from its imprisonment and retrieved the key from my cleavage. With its release his cock sprang into action and almost immediately emitted a full blown erection and simultaneously signified the green light to continue.
With a little more lube to ease the passage, I entered a second finger into sub’s ass and then a third, exploring every inch of his chamber. By now the drool from his perfectly erect penis had spread from the tip of his phallus to the expanse of the duvet and I could tell that his ass hole had become was relaxed and nonchalant, unconcerned with any impending insertion. As I pulled out my fingers from sub’s ass and before his muscles had a chance to retract in defiance, I replaced them with the smallest of my liquorice lube butt plugs. Sub gave out another moan as I effortlessly pushed the plug in to its maximum length.
“Nowhere near big enough ass whore” I remarked, pulling out the torpedo and reinstating another bigger one.
This time sub’s ass offered a modicum of a struggle but by no means an outright refusal. His tunnel was well on the way to being stretched to capacity and I could feel my nipples harden at the very thought. Although sub was just getting started in the anal arena, I deemed that he was in fact ready to accommodate the biggest of my butt plugs, and duly introduced it complete with its tapered edges and elongated point into the now pulsating pit. With the palm of my hand I nudged the plug further into his anus, and with each thrust sub offered thanks and even more pre-cum.
“You’ve done well sub, but not well enough” I retorted, and meanwhile construing that ice would now be needed.
Leaving sub confined to the bed and constrained in terms of retaliation, I promptly exited the now boudoir on a daring raid to infiltrate the ice dispenser. The mission was exciting and enticingly erotic, after all, at any point the lift doors could open and the inhabitants be confronted by a leather clad lady in porn heels. Alas on this particular occasion the assignment was completed without hindrance on my part and trauma on theirs. On my successful return, I emptied the two plastic pots full of ice into one of the provided tumblers. With sub still restrained and penetrated with one of my anal curios, I jammed the glass dildo into the beaker. With all the action in sub’s asshole he sure as hell needed a cool down, and my borosilicate bum buggerer would be more than adequate. When placed in ice, glass cools down incredibly quickly, and it wasn’t very long before the curvaceous work of art was ready to investigate sub’s orifice. With sub being well prepared, the bulbous end of
the dildo slid in with extreme ease, rapidly followed by the ribbed shaft. The heat from sub’s ass caused the uber-chilled dildo to condense as it made its journey further into the anal abyss.
“Amber Mistress” exclaimed sub as the glass dildo penetrated the deepest voids of his anus, touching the top, and unable to venture forth any further.
Subs cock was waning a little as the head fuck of what was happening and the sheer sensory overload began to hit home. Removing the dildo and leaving his dopamine to do its stuff, I released sub from his shackles. Whilst sub reeled somewhat from the experience that had been, I strapped myself in ready to give sub the ride of his life. As I tightened the harness of my strap-on, sub had shifted himself to the bottom of the bed and was sat, his flaccid cock hanging in sweet liberation. In contrast my smaller but erect cock was dutifully dominant. I stood before sub as he gazed in wonderment at the sight of a Mistress equipped with a permanently hard erection that would make even the most confident of men nervous. Before he had time to offer any comment I grabbed his head in both my hands and forced my silicone schlong into his mouth so hard that he gagged as it reached the back of his throat.
“Now suck my fucking cock” I demanded, “You need to earn your fucking keep sub and don’t fucking forget that”. As he had previously done with my heels, sub began his blow-job by deep throating the length of my dick, and whilst sub was sucking I gave him the length of leather thong from the desk top.
“Tie your fucking cock up, and make sure it’s fucking tight, so tight your bollocks go blue and your cock can’t fucking breath asshole” I snarled.
Sub obeyed my wishes without question and strapped the length of cord around the length of his cock and balls, separating each testicle as he completed my command with a tight knot behind his ballsac.
Strictly Business Page 2