Charity Begins At Home Pt 2
Chapter III
Mistress Sidonia slapped the art dealer harshly a few times across the face and he began to regain consciousness.
“Wake up, Little Lord Fauntleroy! I want your full and undivided attention which I insist on immediately!” shouted the Mistress at Her kidnapped prize currently residing face up on the wooden parquet floor.
The man was now awake, and She could see his eyes were as big as coffee cup saucers as he realized he was unable to move or scream. She leaned over the man to speak.
“If you are wondering what you are doing here, then wonder no longer. I’ve drafted you, shall we say, for My slave army. Welcome to Hades, you arrogant piece of useless gristle” the Mistress said as She stared at him menacingly. “And like any other conscript, you must go through Mistress Sidonia’s basic training. I have a special treat for you and you alone tonight, though, that doesn’t involve boots. You’ve been selected to assist Me in breaking in My new shoes. And break them in you will, just as I intend to break you in at the same time!”
Mistress Sidonia stood over Taft, her presence commanding and absolute. With deliberate grace, she began trampling him beneath her boots, his body, his legs, her movements fluid and controlled. Bound tightly, Taft was utterly powerless to move, his body anchored beneath the weight of her dominance as her left foot, then her right, asserted her control in steady, forceful steps. She planted her foot solidly on his stomach, her stance unyielding yet calculated, then, with a piercing gaze, pressed down briefly but firmly on his lower body, a bold declaration of her supremacy. A stifled whimper escaped from the thin cloth she had masterfully secured over his mouth, silencing any defiance. With a swift nudge of her foot, she rolled him over, then continued her display, stepping heavily onto his back and buttocks, each movement precise and commanding, designed to cement her absolute rule. Taft’s eyes widened, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of her overpowering presence.
“Had enough? Oh, how silly of Me. I forgot you are gagged and can’t answer! No matter as there is plenty more to come, weakling. Plenty more!”
Mistress Sidonia loomed over Taft, her presence an unbreakable wall of dominance. With absolute precision, she hoisted him upright into a sitting position, her movements as commanding as when she had masterfully fastened his gag. In a bold display of power, she thrust the pointed toe of her left shoe firmly under his chin, a sharp, unyielding gesture that demanded submission. His head tilted back, and he collapsed to the floor, utterly subdued, his body surrendering to her will like a puppet with severed strings. Stepping forward with unwavering resolve, she planted her other foot squarely on his chest, pressing down with relentless authority. Her deliberate, forceful shifts, as if staking her claim over him, radiated supreme control, each motion a testament to her unchallenged reign.
“Since you are nothing but a human carpet to Me, I hope you are a plush enough carpet so these harmless blows from My feet aren’t fazing you in the slightest. They aren’t are they? I’d feel absolutely awful if they were, you know. What is it you are trying to say to Me, Mr. Taft? Please speak louder. I can hardly discern a word you are saying. Mmppphhhhh? Is that what you are attempting to say to Me? I must get out My dictionary later after I’ve finished with you and look up the meaning of that word.”
More leather shoe missiles landed on every part of the victim’s body, one after the other in swift and painful succession. Mistress Sidonia decided to introduce a bit of trampling nourishment into Her new subordinate’s diet. She stood on top of the beaten man’s stomach doing Her version of a flamenco dance, leaving more tiny pock marks all over his skin then She had previously. Turning him over like you would turn over a steak in the broiler, She repeated Her rhythmic calypso on his back and buttocks, which once again left her marks over the entire skin surface.
It was then She heard the doorbell ring, followed by three loud knocks on the door itself.
Chapter IV
Mistress Sidonia ceased Her ministrations to the beaten wretch lying at Her feet. She could see his hearing that a visitor was at the door had revived Taft enough to make him bold. Too bold for his own good, in fact. He attempted to get the attention of whoever was on the other side of the door by trying to make a sound, any sound, through the gag on his mouth.
Mistress Sidonia knelt down beside him and grabbed his face in Her right hand. His eyes were wild with terror.
“Now listen up, you sorry excuse for manhood” She hissed quietly at him. “I don’t know who is knocking at the Queen’s castle entrance this time of night but you can forget about trying to give an alarm or signal for help. Since all the lights are on inside the house, whoever is knocking knows someone is home. Which also means I must be polite and respond to them so no suspicions might be aroused which would bring the London police to My humble abode for a visit. But that doesn’t mean My late night visitor has to see your sorry ass in the process! So let’s take a little ride, shall we?”
Mistress Sidonia then bodily lifted the roped up and silenced Bentley Taft off of the floor as if he were made of lightweight Styrofoam, carrying him over Her shoulder to the hallway closet She had gotten Her coils of rope out of a few minutes before. Opening the closet door with one hand while She held him, She dropped him unceremoniously on to the floor of the small room. She once again warned him, as the caller repeated knocking loudly three times.
“Not a whimper out of you or you’ll live to regret it. Do I make Myself clear?” She said to him as She slammed the closet door shut.
Walking to the front door, She straightened Her outfit a bit and wiped a spot of saliva off She noticed on the toe of Her left shoe with a Kleenex from the box sitting on an end table. She then picked up the scattered pieces of Taft’s tuxedo along with the shoes She had removed from him and threw them in a bundle behind the couch out of view.
Looking through the peephole, She couldn’t believe Her eyes. This was a bit of bad luck with the girlfriend showing up here. Then She thought: perhaps the bad luck really was about to be imparted on Felicity Adams.
“Well, well, well…look what we have standing under My porch light. If it isn’t Miss Felicity Adams. This should be interesting to say the least,” the Mistress said to Herself as She opened the door.
Before She could say anything, Felicity Adams charged straight past Her and into the house. That was not a wise move, little girl. Not a wise move at all, Mistress Sidonia thought to Herself.
“I demand to know where Bentley is and what is going on between the two of you. Please don’t lie to me. I followed you both here and have been sitting in my car a few short blocks away observing this house since then. Now where is he?”
“I’m sorry, Felicity, but Bentley left just a few short minutes ago. He took a taxi back to charity affair far as I know” said Mistress Sidonia with a broad smile to the furious girl.
“You are a liar. Did you not just hear me say I followed behind and have been watching this house? There was no taxi called to this address. By Bentley or anyone else for that matter!”
Felicity heard a low but unmistakable thumping sound coming from somewhere very close by.
Mistress Sidonia heard the sound as well. And She was no longer smiling at Felicity. You’re a smart little trooper aren’t you, rich girl? But I’ll settle your hash. And very soon, She thought to Herself.
“I asked you a question, Miss von Helsing. Or whatever your real name is. Where is Bentley Taft? I want the coward to stand in front of me so I may have the distinct pleasure of throwing the engagement ring he gave me back in his face!”
More thumping could be heard by both of them.
“He’s hiding, isn’t he? The lousy two-timer is hiding. Maybe next time he should be quieter when he wants to play possum!”
She headed straightaway for the hallway where she heard the sound and, still unknown to her, the closet containing Taft was located. Mistress Sidonia followed closely behind her. Arriving in the hallway, Felicity immediately spotted the closet door.
“How very unimaginative of you to hide in a hallway closet, Bentley Taft!” she shouted, opening the entrance to the small room.
At which point a beaten, bound and gagged Taft fell out into her arms like a sack of trussed up potatoes. He apparently had been able to raise himself off the floor in the confined space of the closet which caused the noise both Felicity and the Mistress had heard, although he still remained hopelessly tied up. He had been standing upright, leaning face forward against the door just as Felicity opened it. The first thing the shocked woman saw as her beloved Bentley tumbled out of the closet into her arms were the ropes securing parts of his body. The second thing Felicity Adams noticed was the tight handkerchief cinched around her mouth, binding her silence like a vice. The third and final thing she saw before slipping into unconsciousness was Mistress Sidonia’s commanding presence looming over her, a single, piercing glance that overwhelmed Felicity’s senses, leaving her mind blank.
Epilogue
Mistress Sidonia reclined on her plush couch, a cigarette poised elegantly between her fingers. Her legs were crossed, her left foot swaying lazily as she flexed her toes within her well-worn shoes. A sly smile curved her lips as she mused about how perfectly those shoes had been molded to her will, thanks to the unwitting contributions of Bentley Taft and his interfering fiancée, Felicity Adams. A pity, Sidonia thought, that the meddlesome girl hadn’t been awake to witness the full extent of her dominance. It would have been delightful to see the realization dawn in her eyes as Sidonia asserted her absolute control. But perfection, alas, was not always attainable.
Across the room, Bentley Taft and Felicity Adams sat slumped against the wall, fully awake and acutely aware of their predicament. Their hands and feet were expertly bound, arms secured behind them, legs stretched out and immobilized with ropes meticulously knotted at their knees, thighs, and elbows. The restraints ensured no futile struggles would disrupt the Mistress’s authority. Thin strips of linen were pulled taut between their teeth, knotted securely at the backs of their heads, enforcing their silence with unyielding precision. A faint smudge of dirt marked Felicity’s face, a subtle testament to Sidonia’s earlier display of dominance while Felicity lay unconscious. Taft, clad only in his undergarments, bore the visible signs of his submission—faint marks of strain across his skin, evidence of the Mistress’s unyielding command over him.
“You know, I was always taught that charity begins at home. Don’t you agree?” Mistress Sidonia said to the frightened twosome sitting across the couch from where She sat, as She took a deep drag from Her cigarette. “I am a firm believer in such sentiment, which is why two absolute nothings are sitting in front of Me in their current state of helplessness. In My own charitable way, you losers are about to be taken into My home as My new slaves. Isn’t that exciting news for the both of you?”
Neither of them attempted to speak, knowing full well the effort would be futile. All they could do was look at each other, then at Mistress Sidonia as She continued talking.
“Starting tomorrow, your training will begin. Until that time, I will allow the both of you the opportunity to ponder your fate in My hands as you sit there trussed up. We have a long road ahead of us but I’m sure you will come to see the guiding light very, very soon! And speaking of lights…”
Mistress Sidonia rose from the couch and began to shut off the lights in the house, leaving her new acquisitions sitting completely in the dark on the hardwood floor.
“Oh, one more thing. Don’t think anyone will come looking for either of you obnoxious cretins here. I’ll dispose of your car in the morning, Miss Adams. I’m sure I can find a suitable charity to donate it to that won’t ask a lot of questions. See, aren’t I a virtual fountain of good works? I know you can’t answer Me, so I am just going to assume you are in agreement. Neither of you will ever be found so just sit back and relax for the present. Tomorrow will come sooner then you think!”
Mistress Sidonia patted them both on their heads, laughing as She walked away.
The End…. for now…
by sgc
Note: This is just a fictional fantasy femdom story
About Mistress Sidonia
Supreme Ruler of The English Mansion. Leather clad 'n' booted bitch, highly sexed, cruel male slave owner and trainer.
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