A Quiet Day At Home

Mistress Lucy glanced at the clock which a few minutes ago had just struck 12.30, sighed a deep sigh & swung her long, elegant, legs off the sofa.

“I suppose I’d better prepare myself for that insolent slave” she muttered to herself.

“How dare he ring me so late at night with some pathetic question. He’ll certainly leave here vowing never to do it again, that’s for certain!”

She climbed the stairs to the first floor landing & pushed open the door to her rather misleadingly named “playroom”. Many things went on in it’s dim interior, but few of them would normally be described as “play”, even by the most committed masochist..

Once across the threshold she spun sharp right on her exquisite stiletto-heeled court shoes and walked into her dressing room. The room was still not quite as she would have liked it, but as yet she hadn’t found a slave capable of carrying out the work required to meet her exacting standards.

“OK….. today he’s not going to know what’s hit him” she whispered to herself, as she took most of her weight on her straight left leg and twisted the spike heel of her right shoe viciously into the deep pile of the carpet. Today was one of those days when she was really in the mood for tormenting her slaves & she was looking forward to the arrival of her next victim with eager anticipation. Arms folded she let her gaze run along the long line of outfits on the chrome rail; most were black and nearly all were either soft leather, shiny PVC or skin tight rubber. The afternoon sun was streaming through the window and it’s heat was sending off an intoxicating perfume from the rail of clothes. It was a heady mixture of perfume, coconut oil & the sweet scent of hot leather.

Mistress Lucy inhaled a deep breath of this seductive, erotic aroma and closed her eyes.

“Definitely a leather day” she mused and stepped out of her heels onto the carpet as she selected a fine black kid thong. She pointed her feet like a dancer as she slipped the thong over them & on up her long, strong legs till the straps were nestled on top of her hips and her beautifully shaven pussy was gently caressed by the soft pouch. Next she eased her cream riding jodhpurs over her feet and pulled them up until she could fasten them round her tiny waist. She loved the way they clung to every curve of her legs and bottom like a second skin & admired her reflection in the mirror as she smoothed out any remaining creases with her hands. Her beautifully firm breasts looked well tanned against the pale colour of the jodhpurs and she could already feel her juices start to flow as a feeling of total power started to take hold. Mistress Lucy noticed that her nipples were beginning to harden & slipping on a short leather jacket she gasped as they brushed against the smooth, silky lining. Next came her long leather thigh boots with the spiked heels, which were nearly as tight on her legs as the riding breeches. They were her most potent symbols of dominance and were guaranteed to have any pathetic male grovelling on the floor in front of her, begging for mercy! She always zipped them up slowly & deliberately, as though every inch of zip increased her power even more. Once her legs were fully encased in the supple leather she loved to sit down, grasp the top of each boot in turn and pull hard so that her feet were forced well into the foot & all the creases disappeared as the leather was pulled taut.

A pair of buttery-soft black kid gloves, that one of her slaves had bought her, were eased onto her long, elegant fingers to add the finishing touch and Mistress Lucy lifted herself slowly off the chair and drew herself up to her full height. Very slowly she walked the length of her playroom, her spike heels spearing the carpet with every step, enjoying the feeling of total control that a dominant outfit provided. When she reached the end she turned to face the full length mirror & admired her reflection as she stood tall, hands on hips. She was truly a Dominant Goddess personified & loved that feeling of sexual power which was the ultimate aphrodisiac for any woman who craves control. She pulled the bottom of her jacket down to show off her breasts to best advantage and admired the way the V at the back emphasised the shapely curves of her firm buttocks.

“Just perfect for riding slaves and smothering them too” she laughed.

As the sound of her wicked laugh died away she heard the doorbell ring downstairs.

Mistress Lucy paused to pick a riding crop from her rack of whips then slowly & deliberately descended the stairs to admit her slave. As she opened the door the man outside gawped unbelievingly at the vision of power & femininity that stood before him.

“Oh my God” he gasped.

“Don’t you mean Goddess?” came the reply……………..

“Oh, I’m sorry” said Mistress Lucy “I thought you were someone else!”

“Er…er…you are Miss Bailey, aren’t you?” the man stammered, thinking he’d called at the wrong house.

“Yes, that’s right”

Mistress Lucy had completely forgotten that she had asked a carpenter to call to carry out some modifications to her dressing room.

“Oh, you must be the carpenter, please come in.”

The sight of Mistress Lucy in her full Riding Mistress outfit had obviously completely thrown the poor man, so in an effort to calm him down she asked him if he wanted a cup of tea before he started.

“Er…yeah…thanks” he managed to blurt out, still in shock at the erotic apparition before him.

As he followed her into the kitchen his eyes were riveted on the beautiful curves of her exquisite bottom, which were all too obvious because of the skin-tight riding jodhpurs she was wearing. On entering the kitchen Mistress Lucy’s spike-heeled boots started to clack noisily on the quarry tiles and his gaze was drawn reluctantly away from her amazing bottom to her somewhat unusual footwear. Long black thigh-high boots with five inch heels were hardly normal daytime wear for housewives; not in his experience anyway!

She started to fill the kettle with water as he tried to get his senses at least partially under control Should he try and carry on as though this was quite normal attire for his lady customers or should he make some comment? And if he was going to make some comment, what the hell was he going to say? In the end he decided that he would try and carry on as normally as he could, although the sight of this extraordinarily beautiful woman was already setting his pulse racing & making him breathe heavily.

Mistress Lucy spun on her heel and suddenly asked “Are you experienced?”

This was too much for his befuddled brain. “At what, Miss?” he blurted out.

“Why, carpentry of course, what on earth did you think I meant, you stupid man?”

“I…I..I’m not sure, Miss” he stammered. Her very direct questioning and demeanour were making him nervous.

“Please don’t call me Miss, I can’t abide it. I will only respond to Madam or preferably Mistress”

“Yes, Miss…sorry…er, Mistress.”

“I’ve had so-called carpenters round here before & to be quite frank most of them didn’t know their arse from their elbow. I hope you’re not one of those!”

He guessed she was about the same age as him but she was obviously used to taking charge of situations!

Mistress Lucy had by now recovered from the initial shock of seeing him on her doorstep, instead of her expected slave, and was beginning to enjoy the situation, much to the obvious discomfort of Peter the carpenter who was beginning to wonder what was going on. As she stood with her back to the worktop he couldn’t help noticing that she appeared not to be wearing a bra, as he could see most of her full, firm breasts through the neck of the short, leather jacket she was wearing. Altogether she was an awesome sight; both incredibly sexy and yet somehow very intimidating at the same time. He had never seen, let alone met, quite such an amazing woman.

His reverie was broken by her commanding voice. “I’m not paying you to stand around gawping at my tits, let’s put you to work.”

Mistress Lucy marched briskly across the kitchen, through the hallway, and climbed the stairs, deliberately placing one foot in front of the other so that her hips swayed teasingly, guessing correctly that Peter’s eyes would be glued on her tantalising curves. He followed her, transfixed by this confident, commanding woman. She opened a door on the first floor landing and he followed her into it’s dimly lit interior. After the bright sunlight of the kitchen he could barely make anything out, although he thought he saw a four poster bed with some sort of shiny sheet covering it. Further inspection was not possible as Mrs. Anderson opened another door into a small room off the main room which was virtually empty, apart from a pair of handcuffs and what looked like a studded dog-collar on the floor.

“That bloody slave” he thought he heard her mutter, as she picked them up and slipped them into her jacket pocket. By now alarm bells were going off in his head & he wondered what on earth went on in this place.

“Right, I want shelves here, cupboards here & two hanging rails here” she ordered, “and I want the job finished tonight.”

“But, Miss…I mean Mistress. There’s no way I’ll finish this lot by five!”

“Who said anything about finishing at five. You’ll finish when I say you can go!”

Although she was the client, and a very attractive one at that, he wasn’t used to being talked to like this by anyone, especially a woman.

“Hang on a minute Missus….” he started, but his words were rapidly cut off as he gasped in amazement. As he had started to protest, Mistress Lucy had quickly stepped forward so that her fantastic body was pressed lightly against his own, towering over him in her five inch stilettos. He could smell her perfume & the sweet scent of leather from her jacket, as he gazed at her luscious, blood red lips. She brought one gloved hand up & rested it lightly under his chin, with just enough pressure to tip his head back ever so slightly.

“You wouldn’t want to displease me now, would you?” she softly intoned.

“No…no…of course not Missus, I mean Mistress” he answered, and with out another word she turned on her heel & strode from the room.

As she descended the stairs, Mistress Lucy felt quietly pleased by her performance so far (for performance it surely was) & noticed with some pleasure that her pussy was beginning to tingle. She lay on the spotless cream leather sofa for a while and read a magazine whilst the glorious afternoon sun warmed her body until, after a few short minutes, she became uncomfortably hot. She unzipped her boots and slowly peeled the cream jodhpurs off her impossibly long, tanned legs.

“That’s better” she breathed & got up to open the sliding doors a little. She lay back down on the sofa and undid the solitary button on her soft, kidskin jacket so that her firm breasts were exposed to the warm sun and the cool breeze.

“Ummmm!”, she moaned, as the sun warmed the small black thong covering her sensual mound as lay back sumptuously on the cushions. The sweet aroma of the hot leather filled her senses and she felt her head start to swim as she gently caressed her pussy with her middle finger, pushing the warm leather against her clitoris. As she did so she caressed her firm breasts and rock hard nipples with her other leather-gloved hand, enjoying the feel of the smooth, supple kid-skin against her own. Her breath started to come in quicker, deeper gasps as she placed the palm of her hand over her nose & mouth and inhaled deeply. The combination of the hot, caressing rays of the sun, and the sweet perfume of warm leather, was a strong aphrodisiac and Mistress Lucy had no inclination to fight her natural urges! All she needed now was a slave to worship her.

“Where the hell has that slave got to?” she thought angrily.” If he turns up now I’ll thrash him within an inch of his life”. At that moment she thought she heard a footfall in the bedroom above and sat up sharply. Was that her carpenter snooping about?

Mistress Lucy quickly eased her feet into her boots, which had become very hot & supple in the sun, zipped them up & picked up her riding crop from the carpet. A germ of a plan had begun to form in her mind – it appeared that her expected slave had stood her up but maybe she could make alternative arrangements!

She tiptoed upstairs very slowly and deliberately, her boots sinking into the deep soft pile of the carpet as she went, just like a lioness stalking her prey. As Mistress Lucy approached the main bedroom she could hear what sounded like the pages of a magazine being turned & slowed her pace even more. She gazed through the gap between the door & frame and could see Peter flicking through one of her femdom magazines with a look of amazement on his face.

Mistress Lucy took one pace forward, leaned her left shoulder casually on the door frame, folded her arms & crossed her left leg across her right, so the toe was pointing down into the carpet. She coughed lightly, which startled him so badly he dropped the magazine on the floor.

“What do you think, Peter?” her husky voice enquired.

He blushed deeply, feeling like a schoolboy caught redhanded.

“Er… I don’t know Mistress. It’s a bit kinky if you ask me.” Mistress Lucy noticed with quiet satisfaction that, despite the shock and embarrassment of being caught, he still remembered to call her by her proper title. He was learning, albeit slowly, and Mistress Lucy felt that the time was now right to accelerate the process.

Drawing herself up to her full height she walked, slowly and deliberately, directly towards him. “It’s not a bit kinky…..it’s perfectly natural!” she replied, fixing his by now frightened eyes with her unblinking gaze.

When she reached him she noticed with satisfaction that his hands appeared to be trembling slightly. “Do you find me attractive, Peter?” she enquired.

“I’m not sure Mistress….I mean….” but before he could finish she had grabbed his balls tightly with her left hand & his hair with her right and forced him down on his knees. Through the terrible pain in his balls he dimly felt his arms being dragged behind his back and something cold being snapped on his wrists.

“What the hell….” he started, before a sharp push from a spike heel in the small of his back sent his face deep into the carpet. He twisted his head sideways but all he could see were a pair of leather clad legs towering above him.

“What do you mean?” questioned Mistress Lucy, as she stepped over his prostrate body, sat heavily in the small of his back and leaned over, so her soft, luxuriant hair fell over his face and her lips were inches from his ear.

“I mean I find you attractive… but a bit unusual” he said tactfully.

“Gooood” breathed Mistress Lucy in his ear. “I would hate to be thought of as “usual”, because as you should be starting to realise…I’m not!”

“What are you going to do with me?” he quizzed.

“Remember your manners!” came her waspish voice. “You will address me as Mistress at all times….understand?”

“Yes, Mistress…sorry, Mistress” he gasped, his breathing becoming difficult as his chest was crushed into the carpet.

“As to what I’m going to do with you, I haven’t quite decided yet, but believe me I’m going to enjoy it!” she laughed.

Peter still couldn’t take in what was happening to him. What had started as a normal day had turned into a nightmare; what on earth had this crazy woman got in store for him? Now that she had him at a distinct physical disadvantage he thought his best policy was to be as co-operative as possible, and not antagonise her too much, as she was obviously a lady who believed in turning domination from fantasy to reality!

“On your feet, slave!” Mistress Lucy commanded and was pleased to see that her carpenter-turned-slave was quick to obey.

“Right, follow me through to my playroom. We have work to do.”

He awkwardly got to his feet, his arms firmly handcuffed behind his back, and followed his customer-turned-tormentor through to the room across the landing.

“Um…Mrs. Anderson, c..c..couldn’t we just carry on with the carpentry?” he stammered.

Mistress Lucy turned sharply on her heel at the sound of his frightened, pleading voice and planted the end of riding crop firmly under his chin.

“Firstly, you will only address me as Mistress or Mistress Lucy from now on and secondly you will carry on with the carpentry, but only when I have trained you to behave properly!”

The look of bemusement and fear on his face made her laugh out loud.

“I think I have the upper hand now, slave, don’t you?”

She turned again and continued on into her den. As she walked she knew that his eyes would be roaming all over her exquisite body and brought one foot deliberately across in front of the other as she walked, knowing it would make her hips sway. How she loved teasing poor, pathetic men! They just couldn’t handle her heady mix of sexual provocation and ultimate power.

“You can’t keep your eyes off them, can you Slave?”

“Off what, Mistress?” he said innocently, but very unconvincingly.

“My boots of course, and don’t try and play innocent with me! Your eyes were glued to my thigh-boots as you walked in. It’s quite understandable; I know you pathetic men find my exquisite legs irresistible at the best of times, let alone when they’re clad in soft, sensuous kid leather! However I will accept no excuses, so that’s another black mark against you, slave”

He stood in the middle of the room and waited, wondering what on earth was going to happen next. He was definitely afraid but also surprisingly starting to get aroused. “Right Slave, let’s have a look at you…..about as good as a pathetic male body can get, I suppose”

He could feel her eyes boring into him as she walked round him, oh so slowly, like a lioness stalking her prey. After a couple of circuits she stopped behind him, and the room was so quiet he could hear the thumping of his heart and feel his Mistress’s soft breath on the nape of his neck. He felt a hard object touch the top of his spine lightly; it then moved slowly down his spine until it reached his, by now, rather tense buttocks. It performed a couple of circuits round his two cheeks in a delicate fashion and he was just thinking how pleasant a sensation it was when ….. crack! The riding crop (for that’s what it was) whipped down smartly onto his right buttock causing him to jump sharply.

“Bit touchy aren’t we, slave?” came his Domina’s voice, in an expression of false concern.

“Sorry, Mistress” he apologised.

“No need to apologise, Slave. You should know by now that apologies are a waste of breath. I need actions, not words!”

The tip of the crop once again made gentle contact with his body, this time just behind his left knee. It tracked slowly up the inside of his leg, controlled expertly by his Mistress’s right hand. When it reached his balls it caressed them gently in a circular motion, as if to make up for the stinging pain in his backside.

“I think it’s time we had some clothes removed, don’t you Slave?” And with that she strolled casually over to her Mistress’s chair, deliberately swaying her perfect bottom as she knew he would be watching her. She sat down with great poise, leaned casually back in her chair and crossed her long legs. One of Mistress Lucy’s favourite pleasures was teasing her slaves with her superb figure until they felt their balls would burst. She used her beautifully toned curves as a deadly weapon, and her body was so stunning that complete and utter control was totally effortless.

“Sorry, Mistress, did you say take my clothes off?”

“Yes, are you deaf or what?” shouted back his tormentor

Peter felt her smouldering eyes on him and heard the quiet slap of her crop against her boot as she waited impatiently for him to undress. He struggled desperately to get his clothes off, hampered as he was by having his hands cuffed behind him.

“Well, what have we here then? Did I give you permission for an erection, Slave?” demanded Mistress Lucy.

“No, Mistress”

“Well why do you have one?”

“I don’t know, Mistress…this is not what normally turns me on.”

“Well, it’s what turns me on and as you will come to learn that is the only thing you should be concerned with. I think we need to teach you some manners. On your knees, Slave.”

He knelt down and Mistress Lucy mounted him like a horse.

“Take me to the Bondage Cross” she commanded.

He did as he was ordered, quietly enjoying the feel of her strong thighs gripping him, although the crop whacking his backside was a reminder who was in charge!

She dismounted and ordered him to stand up against the cross. Expertly the straps were tightly fastened and he was soon completely immobilised.

“That’s better. Nothing like a well trussed slave.” Lucy smiled as she stood back to admire her handiwork.

She was dressed in a soft leather G-string, which hid her sacred pussy at the front, but left nothing to the imagination at the back, with the tiny thong running up between her buttocks only serving to emphasise their fullness. The tops of her smooth, sensual thighs were visible above the glossy, black leather of her stiletto-heeled thigh-boots, which showed off the alluring curves of her impossibly long legs. Apart from the tops, which were flared to allow freedom of movement, her boots hugged the contours of those sensational legs as if they were lovingly caressing them.

His Dominatrix stood with her weight on one foot, with the other pointing out to the side and tilted backwards so that only her spike heel rested on the floor, as though she was crushing a slave underfoot. Her posture emphasised her ultimate power and showed off the contours of her 6″ spike heel to perfection.

Mistress Lucy knew that her helpless slave was overcome with lust for her irresistible body (as evidenced by his heavy breathing) and with good reason. Although she wasn’t vain, his Mistress worked hard in the gym to keep herself in shape and she enjoyed the sight of her dominant figure in the full length mirrors of her playroom. She slowly stalked round behind him until she was out of his sight.

“Can’t have you getting too excited, can we Slave?” quizzed his Mistress.

“No Mistress” replied Peter, unconvincingly. He could feel her presence behind him, partly by sixth sense and partly because he could smell the sweet mixture of perfume and leather rising from his tormentor’s body.

He flinched as she ran her razor sharp fingernails up his inner thigh and then sank them firmly into the soft flesh of his buttock.

“And you are a little over-excited, aren’t you, my slave?” she observed, as she watched the clear juice dripping off the end of his, by now, massively erect cock.

“I, I can’t resist you Mistress”

“I know Slave, it’s a shame you pathetic males have such pitiful self-control. Mind you, with a Mistress as stunning as myself it must be difficult for you, poor lamb! Perhaps I’d better teach you some?”

With that Mistress Lucy strolled casually across to her equipment rack and stood poised, with hands on hips, as she contemplated which instrument of pain to use on her helpless slave. She selected a short cat-o-nine tails and was on the way back to her incapacitated plaything when she stopped to admire the view in the mirror. What a goddess she looked as she idly played with the whip she’d just selected, whilst behind her she could see the waiting backside of her willing subject. Lucy felt her sacred juices start to flow as that ultimate aphrodisiac, total power, started to take effect.

“Now slave where were we? Oh yes, let’s see if you can handle some punishment; you never know I might even reward you if you don’t behave like a wimp! Now count the strokes and woe betide you if you don’t thank me after each and every one.”

Five minutes later, with red marks on his buttocks and thighs, he was in no doubt that he had absolutely no control over the situation he had found himself in.

“Not bad, slave. I think I may even reward you with a little boot worship, but first I’d like you to get acquainted with my boots from a different perspective.”

Five minutes later he was hanging from the ceiling, each ankle firmly held by a leather strap, with the top of his head only an inch or so above the floor. The blood was rushing to his head and he could hear a pounding in his ears….. but the view, albeit upside-down, was worth it. His Mistress was stalking round him very slowly and each time she came round he got a close up view of those skyscraper heels and the perfect curves of her strong calves. She squatted down in front of him so that her crotch was level with his face and the sweet smell of her sex juices drifted across the small gap to his nostrils.

“I expect you’d love to drink my juice wouldn’t you, Slave?”

“Oh yes, Mistress I’d give anything to be permitted to worship your sacred sex.” he found himself begging.

“Anything eh, Slave. That’s a rather rash promise!”

“I mean it my Mistress” he said, really starting to get desperate to worship this amazing woman. His initial fear was still there, but was starting to be overcome by an overpowering urge not to try and resist her but please her. He was learning!

“I’m sure you do, Slave. I just don’t think you’re aware of what “anything” could include!”

So saying she sat down and encircled his head with her long legs, clamping her well toned thighs on either side of his face so that his nose was embedded in the soft, and by now sopping wet, kid leather of her thong. At first he was turned on beyond belief as the scent of her musk filled his senses, but after a few moments he realised he could not breathe. He could not hear either, as his Mistress’s thighs were firmly clamped over his ears and after a while he was sure he would black-out.

He was just thinking “what a way to die”, when Lucy suddenly unwrapped her powerful limbs, and he gasped a huge lungful of air.

“You weren’t worried were you, Slave? I wouldn’t despatch you before you’ve carried out all your tasks, now would I?” his Mistress said teasingly. With that she hit the quick release button on the suspension rope and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. Mistress Lucy removed the cuffs from his ankles and ordered him to stand up, which he did somewhat shakily. She then picked up a collar and lead from the nearby shelf and fastened it securely round his neck.

“On your knees, Slave and come with me.”

His Mistress pulled the lead tight and led him across the floor, like a pet, all the while keeping the lead short so that his face was temptingly close to her heavenly bottom. Once she had reached her favourite chair she sat down, still keeping hold of the lead.

“Now, Slave I want you to grovel at my feet and polish every inch of my sublime boots with your worthless tongue.” commanded his Goddess, tugging sharply on the lead.

At first he hesitated, but after a sharp whack over his tender buttocks he needed no further bidding and, cradling the ultimate symbols of her power reverently in his hands, he bent his head to his task. It was as though he was making love to his Mistress as he kissed, licked and caressed the warm leather encasing his Mistress’s stunning legs. He covered every fragment of her boots with his tongue, both front and back, as his Mistress considerately stood up in order that he could worship the backs too. He was intoxicated with the smell and feel of the leather, which her legs had warmed beautifully to increase the strength of it’s scent, and was soon consumed with worshipping her sumptuous limbs as though his life depended on it.

Mistress Lucy, too, was not unaffected by her slave’s devotion and her already moist pussy was now absolutely soaking wet.

Her slave got more and more aroused, as he wildly took the whole length of her spike heel in his mouth and sucked on it as though it was his Mistress’s cock!

The sight of her slave totally helpless at her feet was the ultimate turn-on, and Mistress Lucy was not a woman to resist her sexuality. She felt her breath coming in short gasps and, as her slave worked, she slipped her finger down the front of her thong and started to work herself into a barely controlled frenzy.

Slave Peter was aware of her excitement and he roused himself to renewed efforts as his Goddess approached orgasm.

“Ahhh” screamed his Mistress as an overwhelming climax engulfed her, like a tidal wave crashing onto a beach. Simultaneously, although he instinctively knew he shouldn’t, he came too and he ejaculated his cream all over her boots.

Gradually Mistress Lucy recovered her composure and looked down at the spattered mess on her beautiful boots.

“I think you’ve just committed the ultimate sin, slave, coming without permission. If you thought your earlier punishment was harsh, just wait and see what I have in store for you when you’ve finished cleaning my boots”

“How shall I clean them, Mistress?” he nervously asked.

“Why, with your tongue of course, slave, how else?” came the reply he dreaded.

He dare not hesitate any more, as his Mistress idly played with her riding crop, and dutifully bent his head to lick off every last trace of the salty come from the shiny black leather of his Mistress’s exquisite leg-wear.His transformation from carpenter to devoted slave had only just begun.

by slave Peter