Leather & Lace - Book II
Chapter 4 - Uniform of the Day
By the White Knight
It was a bright Saturday morning and the ground about our beautiful new house
was covered in pristine white snow. I looked from our bedroom window and saw a
crew clearing our driveway and cobblestone paved paths. Opening the drapes a
bit further, I looked to see if the front path was cleared. Seeing that it was
I turned back to look at the progress at the drive and found three pairs of eyes
starring up at me and smiling from below.
My first inclination was to close the drapes and hurry back inside, but I smiled
that thought away. Shaking my head from side to side I sent my long golden
locks flying about me. In the glint from the glass I could see my own
reflection well, and was happy to see my soft leather collar with its shinning
silver studs was perfectly displayed. As were my proud breasts that were barely
covered by my frightfully short sheer white baby doll that was fringed with
marabou feathers.
I smiled back at the men and gave them a little wave before I stepped away form
the window. A pity that the window wasn't a full floor to ceiling pane as I'm
sure that they would have loved to have been able to see my legs. Sheer white
stocking with tight lace tops graced them with my feet arched lovingly into five
inch satin mules complete with their matching tufts of white feathers.
'The camera does have that effect on many women', Greg mused as he saw me emerge
from the heavy curtains.
I smiled as I walked towards him and put my arms about his neck. 'You should
know by now', I said to him with a laugh, 'that I have very little modesty left.
And since you were the gentlemen that pulled me from my sheltered life and
introduced me to a life where my beautiful bound form can be seen by hundreds of
thousands of hungry eyes I dare say that you can hardly be mad at such a small
lose.'
'Oh on the contrary baby, I think that your new found confidence gives you an
air of sensual seduction that oozes from your pores to drive me to delightful
distraction!' He bent and our tongues met in a warm sensuous kiss that made me
want to kick off my heels and climb back in bed with him.
Crack. A stinging slap to my barely covered rear woke me from my reverie as I
broke our kiss and looked up at Greg. 'What would you have of me Master?' I
asked diffidently.
'Some breakfast would certainly hit the spot. Homemade waffles with pecans and
bananas, a bowl of sliced pineapple and a large mug of coffee. After that we
both have some work to do on the web site. I've pictures to crop and ready for
the next addition and you my dear are well behind in your fan mail!'
'Yes, Master', I replied as I happily gave him a peck on the lips, 'I'll get
right on that.'
I went to turn away, but his hands on my waist held me in place. 'Not so fast
baby... first, I want you to change into your uniform of the day', he ordered in
his soft commanding voice.
Ah, my uniform of the day was to start early this fine morning, I thought easily
as I awaited further instructions. Greg had decided long ago that reminding me
of my status as his slave and property required more than just a simple collar.
Heck, everyone's slave wore his or her Master's collar so he had to devise his
own version of declaring his ownership. His first thought was to have me where
a sexy maids uniform whenever we were alone and about the house, but he quickly
grew tired of the same old thing, despite the fact that I now owned that costume
in over a dozen different configurations and colors! From that we had graduated
to his newest idea of the uniform of the day.
'There is a card on your bureau outlining the outfit that I wish you to wear.
After you are properly clad you may be about making our breakfast.'
He said this so sternly but I just smiled at his serious visage and gave him
another peck on the lips and answered in my spunky Barbara Eden-esque tone,
'Yes, of course Master!'
As I turned from him, this time he let me go and I nearly skipped as I ran
excitedly to my bureau. Glancing over my shoulder I stole a glance at my "so
stern" Master and caught him grinning at my quickly sashaying form. He just
loved to act "masterful" but I truthfully think that it was merely as practice
for when we were around his father! He knew that there was nothing that he
would ask of me that I would not gladly do for him even one of his favorites the
good old, 'Bend while I give you twenty'.
I love him with every fiber in my body and pleasing him was always at the top of
my thoughts. So becoming his slave was merely an extension of this same love
and being the best slave that I could be was my way of showing him my feelings.
Even closer to the mark it was my way of giving him my very essence.
The card on my bureau was his return of my love. He had created his own card on
heavy stock photo paper with a picture of me bound on the cover. Picking up the
card I peered inside at the large black old style script letters.
Uniform of the Day
Pink and black Satin under-the-bust corset
Pink with black lace demi-bra
Black Fishnet Stockings
Seven Inch Black Patent Leather Sandals
Note: You may wear your pink satin mules while preparing breakfast, but I
expect to be served in the above noted sandals.
LY,
M
Hmm, yummy I thought to myself as I adjourned to my small room size walk in
closet. I had come from a well-to-do family, but still nothing had ever
prepared me for the splendor that Greg had forced me to become comfortable with.
His multi-millionaire father and he continued to conspire to make sure that I
always had the best of everything. The well-marked cedar drawers of the hand
built waist high shelves made it easy to find that which I sought. I pulled out
the heavily boned corset from amongst its nearly two-dozen similarly closeted
fellows and slid over to the baskets of bras.
When Greg liked a particular item of lingerie it meant that I would have to have
it in any and all of the conceivable colors that it might come in, hence my wall
of bras. The hanging silver wire baskets made it easier to find the particular
piece more easily, which was very helpful when I was running against a time
limit. I took a new pair of Givenchy fishnet stockings from another chest of
drawers and then headed over to my shoes.
Two hundred and forty eight by six inch cubbies covered the wall that was
complete with it's own rolling ladder that let me reach even the highest
shelves. More than half of them were currently empty, but I didn't think that
it would take all that long to fill them. Especially since Cassy, Arch
Stanton's wife and Greg's step-mom and I were the "shoe testers' for Stanton
Enterprises. Greg's dad's leather company bought many of the most exotic shoes
ever made from all different parts of the world. Cassy's and my exacting foot
dimensions had been given to a countless number of these vendors who showered my
Master and his father with their newest fetish creations on a regular basis. It
was no wonder that they did, with the huge amount of volume that Stanton
Enterprises and Leather and Lace together could sell of the exciting heels. But
it also meant that I received an untold number of perfectly fitted pumps,
sandals, slides, mules and slippers. However only the ones that Greg approved
of made it to my closet. The platforms and cone heels were always discarded by
my Master although Cassy had told me that she personally liked the platforms as
they added much needed height to her miniature frame.
The black patent leather sandals that I gathered as I put my white satin slides
away were one of these new pairs. The heel was the highest ever put on a
sandal, which of course meant that Greg had to have them for me. Looking at
them I was extremely glad that he had allowed me to make breakfast in my pink
satin mules, with their all so comfortable four-inch heels.
Over a year and a half ago four-inch heels were the highest that I had ever
worn, regulated for those parties where I wanted to dazzle my male suitors.
Today those heels were my work heels as I could walk in four and five inch heels
all day long and not miss a beat. I did so love to switch out of them from
time to time and walk nearly barefoot in my satin ballet-like slippers, as not
only did this allow me to stretch my tendons but it also allowed me the sensuous
comfort of being able to tickle my Master with my sexy tootsies.
Beep. The intercom in the room came to life and Greg's voice came on, 'bring
the pink Extreme pumps as well baby'. No explanations just the request. I
suppose I should think of it as an order, but it was truly impossible for me to
do so. You know the story with the genie that comes out of the bottle and says
your wish is my command and then gives the poor sap three wishes that he always
screws up? Well, this is the story where his wish is my wish and his wishes are
unlimited!
That is not to say that I do not have my own limits, but we had found out early
on that my views and his were directly in line. He had no wish to share our bed
with another women, couple or God forbid a group! Animals and reptiles held no
appeal for either of us. So it was simply Greg dominating me and we both loved
our respective roles. Even better yet though was the cycle of pleasing each
other, over and over and over again, that kept our love in a state of constant
growth.
I dressed quickly and applied my make up to match my outfit. The intercom call
was not only a reminder for me to bring another pair of shoes, but also to
remind me that he was waiting. Waiting and Master were oxymorons so I put a
wiggle on.
It was a good thing that I did as he was waiting for me as I came down the
stairs. 'Turn about and hold the banister while I tighten you laces', he
ordered softly. Putting the two pairs of shoes on the second stair I complied.
Lacing had become a normal course of events as Greg often requested one of my
many corsets, so the process was hardly onerous anymore. Even those last few
gargantuan pulls that stripped me of that extra half inch of my waistline went
smoothly as I sucked in my breath. While he tied off the laces I let out my
wind and began to find a new pattern of normal breathing that required a more
shallow and quicker timing.
'Turn and present.'
Turning to face him I looked purposefully over his right shoulder as I puffed
out my breasts as much as possible. From the corner of my eye I could see his
hands guiding the tight elastic circlet about my right breast. As soon as his
strong fingers released it about the base it tightened incredibly. He rolled
the thick elasticized fabric down just a bit lower forming a beautiful balloon
like effect out of my tit. The left followed as quickly as the right and soon
both breasts where tightly bound and beginning to become more and more sensitive
do to the lack of blood flow.
These circlets were another one of Greg's inventions and one that his father and
L&L had soon capitalized on, once he had made them known. They were simply made
from a bungie cord that had been cut to seven inches in length and the ends sewn
tightly back together. To put this into terms that anyone can understand, the
seven-inch diameter is three inches smaller than the diameter of your normal
morning coffee mug!
The effect though was spectacular not only in the look, but also in the feelings
that it gave to me. The lightest touch from his fingers felt like static
electricity sliding across my tied tit. I moaned a few times as he played with
my nipples to be sure that he had achieved the sensitivity that he had set out
to make me feel. My nipples responded instantly to his caress and stood up tall
to his touch.
Satisfied he gave me my next command. 'Open'.
I continued to look over his shoulder so as not to look at his face or
especially into his eyes, which would be cause for immediate punishment.
Sighing happily I bit down on the black latex ball that he slipped into my
mouth. The elastic strap was part of the gag that required me to hold my hair
out of the way while he placed it behind my neck. I let my hair drop and
fluffed it back into position.
'You may proceed to make our breakfast', Master told me as he stepped out of my
way. I gave him a bobbing nod of my head as agreement, this time keeping my
eyes demurely pointed towards the floor. Eye contact was always a tricky
subject with my Master, however months of practice kept me from the many
spankings that I received in my early days as his slave. Sometimes though, when
I craved his touch, I would purposefully screw up such an easy thing. He would
know that I had done it on purpose, but that only made his swats harder as he
lovingly gave me what I desired.
My heels clicked along the hardwood floor as I made my way to the kitchen. All
the floors in our new home were of the best hard woods, many covered with
beautiful oriental rugs and others left bare. Both of these surfaces were there
with one calculated purpose in mind. Which was to allow me to navigate them in
the highest high heels possible.
The four's that I was now wearing were as simple as bedroom slippers to my
well-trained feet. I gathered all of the ingredients and implements and put
them all on the granite island counter top. Before I started mixing anything, I
dropped a pink and white check apron around my neck and tied it behind my narrow
waist. Flour on satin was a true pain to remove without a through washing.
Since Greg had specifically requested this corset I was loathe to disappointment
him, for that would surely bring a very heavy price tag!
Halfway through making the waffle batter the intercom sounded again. 'Switch
into your Extreme pumps baby'. Stopping what I was doing immediately, I picked
up the correct heels and sat down in one of our antique rout iron chairs that
matched the small cafe-like distressed wooden table. I looked up into the
corner of the room where the video camera was hidden and wondered if her were
watching me. 'Is there a problem baby?' Asked Greg calmly over the intercom.
I shook my head in the negative and bent to my task, smiling to myself all the
while as it was now obvious that he had been watching me intently.
Sliding off my mules I slid my right foot down the highly arched sole until my
toes meet resistance. Lifting my heel, I pushed my toes into the softly rounded
toe box until there was enough room for me to lower it into the tight pump.
Bending I attached the buckle on the single narrow ankle strap. My left
followed and soon I was back on my feet attending to my duties.
'Hmm, very nice', came Greg's disembodied voice, 'how about a little twirl to
show off your lovely pumps.' A little twirl the man says! A little twirl in a
quarter less six-inch heels! Thank God for my ballet training was all I could
say as I lifted my heels from the floor and balanced on my toes as I spun slowly
in place. 'Thank you baby, you may resume your work.'
While getting a bowl or plate from a higher shelf was made easier by the high
heel pumps grabbing one from a ground level draw or shelf became more
problematic. And wouldn't you know that it was at just this time that I needed
the rasp to grind my nutmeg, which of course just happened to be in the bottom
most drawer. I performed a flawless 'bunny dip', with my butt suspended just
above my heels as I removed the needed item. But this little maneuver had taken
it's toll and the slightly too tight pumps began to seriously bite into my feet.
Each step of my right foot would pinch at my toes as if they were being squeezed
in a vice. I began to favor that leg, but that only put more pressure on my
left which wasn't all that comfortable in the first place. Soon I was nearly
limping about the kitchen as I tried desperately to complete my mission.
'Is there something wrong with you feet baby?' Greg asked earnestly.
I nodded my head "yes" in the direction of the camera. 'Are those damn pumps
pinching your feet again?' I nodded my head violently in agreement. 'I see.
Then you have my permission to complete your assignment while wearing you new
sandals.' I looked at the camera dumbfounded. It was bad enough trying to make
his breakfast in nearly six-inch heels, but in seven-inch heels that I had only
worn once... that was ridiculous. 'Is there something wrong baby? You aren't
moving to comply to my wishes.' These last words were said more forcefully,
breaking my reverie and reminding me to get my ass in gear.
Sitting I removed the tight pumps and sighed delightedly as they left my feet.
The towering sandals were another story entirely. My feet slid easily down the
arched soles, with my toes gliding under the smooth leather straps. I buckled
the straps that crossed over the arch of my foot and encircled my ankle, but
these were more for show than support. Those little straps that barely held my
toes were the main binding that would hold my feet to the sandals as I attempted
to walk. Ah well, no use in worrying as one way or the other I had to find out
if I could or could not stand in the sexy sandals.
Using the table for support I stood and found that they were not much different
than walking in ballet shoes. No, I do not mean ballerina toe shoes, what I am
referring to are shoes shaped like a toe shoe with a nine inch spiked heel
forcing the person wearing them to always remain on his or her toes. Greg had
made me proficient in their wear, so now it was just a matter of applying the
concept to these new heels.
Those little straps did there job perfectly and God help me the sandals were
much more comfortable than the pumps. I tip toed about in them until I mastered
there heel and than I began a shortened stride 'normal' heel to toe walk. Good
Lord these were the most comfortable fetish heels that I had ever worn! Seven
inches and they hugged my foot like a soft cuddly teddy bear. I couldn't
believe it. This must be what Greg meant about the difference between shoes
made specifically for you and off the shelf items, because this was just
incredible.
I danced about the kitchen as I went about my work perfectly happy and
completely oblivious to the effect that I was having on my Master and lover.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
(The story turns to Greg's view)
Sitting in my video control room I was totally captivated as I watched my
beautiful pet gliding about the kitchen with her bound breasts puffing out the
front of her apron and those lovely pink heels clicking upon the golden floors.
Her every move was seen by the three cameras that covered every aspect of the
kitchen. Sharon only knew about one and that was all I wanted her to know of as
I had had the entire house wired so that I could watch her whenever I desired.
I reveled in seeing her dressed exactly as I had prescribed. Her heavily boned
corset gave her that perfect hourglass shape as it narrowed her waist to a
waspish sixteen inches. With her breasts pumped up by the binding cords it made
the effect even more dramatic, giving her the look of one of those comic
heroines that the late Eric Stanton had made so famous. My own perfect Gwen in
all of her majestic splendor, wearing corset, stockings and heels.
I railed at first, when she put on the apron that hid so many of her best
attributes but I comforted myself in the knowledge that she was doing this to
fulfill one of my many rules. She was to maintain her uniforms cleanliness at
all times and working about the kitchen would definitely tax her ability to do
so without the covering of the apron.
So I spent most of my time watching her shapely legs and heels and especially
her nearly naked half moons. The crotch-less black lace panties I had her wear
barely covered any of those gorgeously tight cheeks. Oh, and that wonderful
show that she put on for me as she bent to retrieve the waffle iron from its
draw had been stupendous. Heels poised above her four-inch mules, feet spread
and legs held rigidly straight she bent over to snag the implement. I nearly
creamed in my pants as the split in her panties spread just enough for me to get
a glimpse of her hairless pubis area.
When the waffle iron was up and on the counter she turned to the camera, smiled
about her gag and gave me a wink. I laughed out loud at the effrontery of the
little minx! She returned to her work, which I now determined was going all to
smoothly. I loved making her struggle to complete the tasks I set her, but the
mere four-inch heels weren't nearly the impediment that they had once been.
Ordering her into the sensuous pink pumps had been an excellent way to bring my
all so obliging pet to heel (all puns intended). As she slid into and buckled
each shoe firmly upon her feet I zoomed in at sixteen times magnification until
her feet filled the large monitor. Perfect manicured nails finished their work
briskly and smoothed her stockings out to compensate for the new bends and
twists that the shoes caused in the fine material.
Zooming out I watched her legs as she stood, which was like watching a
masterpiece in action. Those perfectly formed leg muscles quickly adapted to
their new challenge, showing off their lovely lines.
I adored my pets' body and for me it was the epitome of what a woman should
attempt to achieve. She was not a size two with a twig like frame that clogged
the runways of many fashion designers of the era. Those emaciated women looked
to me as if they were refugees from a concentration camp, with there bored
visages and boyish figures. No, baby was a healthy size six, often bordering on
size eight. She ate real portions at meals and maintained her splendid figure
through exercise and restraining herself from over indulging in the desserts of
which she was so fond. Her gorgeous ankles were well rounded and didn't show an
ugly dip in the skin about her Achilles tendon as so many those freakish models
did. The muscles of her calves were forced to bunch higher and closer to her
knee by the more steeply arched soles, yet they could not look more spectacular.
Her thighs were graced with the lacey tops of the fishnets, showing off the
wonderful contrast of her flawless creamy skin with the dark black hose.
My musings were soon disturbed as shortly after switching into the new heels she
began to struggle as if she were lame. I focused again in on her feet and
watched as she clenched and unclenched the muscles in one foot, obviously trying
to find a more comfortable position. But as I shifted my view to another
camera that showed her face I could clearly see her distress.
Crap, I swore to myself. This wasn't unprecedented, as this made two out of the
six pairs of the exact same heels that had been cut to tightly. I wrote I note
to myself to inform the manufacture and then ordered her to change. This
screwed my plans to have her make my breakfast in the two pairs of pink heels
and then serve it in her brand new fetish sandals. The seven inch sandals had
been hand made for her as the Italian shoe maker tried to expand their
distribution into the. They were absolutely gorgeous, but I had only had her
wear them once and that was while she was sitting, bound and gagged of course.
I soon found that my belief that these heels would be more difficult to control
was totally unfounded as she began to dance about the kitchen as if she were
wearing the short-heeled mules! Her feet seemed to be constantly sliding down
the incredibly arched soles of her sandals, yet somehow they molded themselves
to her fluid movements. Toes, crimped into the restraining straps, touched the
floor lightly as I watched in sheer fascination.
Sharon moved as if she were in a ballet of her own making and one that she was
performing just for me. It was during this ballet that my member went into
overload as so many of my sexual buttons were pushed in unison. The thought of
her putting on the sexy garments, opening her mouth to accept the gag, her
flawless body with her sheer waist, incredible buns and perfectly molded legs
all thrust into the sky high heeled sandals. Finally, it was her standing still
legs together, bent straight-backed over her mixing bowl, when she set those
beautiful globes to twitching. First the right twitched upwards and than the
left followed suit, without ever moving her legs or hips. The control that she
had over her body was supreme, even to those nether regions. Pausing in her work
she looked over her shoulder at the camera and winked at me once again.
Damn breakfast, if I didn't take her now I would lose it if I continued to watch
her. Since I could not take my eyes off of her I only had one option available
to me. Running down the back stairs to the kitchen I forced myself to make as
little noise as possible.
'Stop', I ordered her as I walked into the room. Sharon's only movement was to
flick the off switch on the mixer she had been using as she complied.
'Turn around and present your wrists'. Again she did as instructed and I wrapped
her wrists with a black silken rope that I had brought with me. I led her over
to the island where I tethered her to a ringbolt that was hidden beneath the
granite counter top. The hidden ringbolts were another of my house
improvements. They surrounded the counter so that I could tie her to the cold
glossy rock as if it were alter.
With her wrists bound in place I ordered her to take a step backwards and bend
over, so that she could hold onto the counter for support. Picking up a heavy
wooden spoon I walked behind her and swatted her gorgeous globes. The twin
blows to each cheek, elicited only a few "ews" and "ahs" from behind her gag,
while her heels were lifted off the floor. I ran my hand over her quickly
reddening rump and she sighed with contentment. Another caress of my finger
over the tip of her bound breast caused her nipple to pop out like a rocket and
her body to stiffen in shock / pleasure.
She was mine body and soul, and this thrilled me to my core. I gave her another
two blows, four blows, six blows and finally a full dozen and never a complaint
did she utter. Moans of pain, mixed with sighs of pleasure but never did she
ever question my right to do anything that I pleased with her and her beautiful
body. My rod hardened at each blow as her submission and the angry red stripes
on her rear end fueled my lust. A playful swipe at her near tit elicited
excited groans and now she began to sway her ass in front of me like it was some
sort of cobra-like snake dancing to my pied piper tune.
I gave her a few more stripes and watched as her hips and ass melded into each
angry crack of the wood. Clock-wise and than counter clock-wise her glorious
globes rotated in time with my measured strikes. All the while he breathing
became quicker and her thrusting rear became more and more suggestive as
everything about her cried out for me to take her. I could imagine the pleas
that she would cry if I let her in my minds eye, 'Take me, please Master take me
and take me now'. Her soft siren like voice echoed in my ears as if I had
actually heard her pleas.
Finally I could take no more and let my ranging member loose. I rubbed it up
against her sex, spreading the lacy panties as I did so. She moaned and groaned
in appreciation and excitement as she pushed her hips backwards trying to force
me into herself. I played with her cunt, dipping in just enough to cover my
head and than pulling out. When she thrust her rump at me beseechingly I
swatted it once again with the heavy spoon until she remained as still as fence
post and groaned her frustration piteously.
With the spoon reversed I used the handle to push and poke at her puckered rose
bud. Her back stiffened as the rough wood scratched over the tender opening. I
thrust myself fully into her feeling her warm juices lubricate my aching cock as
I continued to contemplate her sexy asshole. Knowing that she would deny me
nothing made me want to take her even more flagrantly than a mere hump from
behind. No, her beauty and obedience deserved what she truly desired which was
to be well and truly mastered and her sensitive rear chute was just the way to
remind just how sweetly she was owned!
My rod was well lubricated as I pulled it from her quivering pussy. She stood
stiff as a rod as I had beaten her every time that she had tried to respond to
my thrusts. Now she stood there expectantly, breathing hard and at the same
time trying not to move a muscle. I smiled in appreciation of how well my baby
followed even my unspoken commands and my lust for her went up another notch.
The swollen head of my cock butted up against her hole as I began to push at
that tender opening. I pushed harder and harder but despite the fact that my
rod was as hard as a brass pipe, my excitement had swollen my head into a
tremendous mushroom and her tight anal muscles refused to offer me passage. I
was mad at myself more than her, as I should have had her wearing a butt plug if
I wanted to take her from the rear. But in my amour I had decided to rush the
process.
Rather than be put off I looked about me for a lubricant that would help me
slide my whopping hard on into her pristine back door. 'Ah, perfect', I said
aloud as I snagged a bowl of melted butter from the stove. Using two fingers I
scooped up the greasy mixture and rubbed it about her puckered opening. Another
scoop and I slid in one finger watching her body stiffen even more, but her
moans of excitement told me that she was as horny as I, and was just waiting for
me to take her. The second finger caused a groan, but she wouldn't even let her
body flinch at the invasion. I smeared more of the hot butter around the inside
of her ring and than rubbed it vigorously about my head.
Again I threatened her rear hole, but this time her rosebud let the tip of my
head in and that was all that she wrote. With one great thrust my bulbous head
pushed passed her defenses and driving forward like some crazed footfall lineman
I drove my cock into my stiffened pet's body until my balls slammed against her
heated cheeks. The woof of her breath leaving her body, fought with the scream
of frustration as she held her body steady against every desire in her body. I
marveled at her restraint and made a mental note to complement her later as I
also stayed perfectly still with my rod buried to the hilt in her ass.
Bracing my own hips, I took one hand and wrapped it about the laces of her
corset. The other hand lifted the spoon and than I dropped it against her
thigh. 'Now, hump me for all your worth baby! Hump me, like you've wanted to
from the moment we met! Hump me like the glorious beautiful creature that you
are!' I continue to cry out these imprecations, but they were more to sate my
own lust than to command her, for as soon as I had freed her, her hips and body
bucked against my cock like a piston in a turbo charged engine. Using her laces
like a cowboy would use the reins on a wild bronco, I held myself into her as
her humping became more and more wild.
She screamed through her gag as the spoon rained down on her thighs like a
jockeys quirt as I lashed her to greater and greater efforts. My cock felt the
incredible pressure of her tight anal passageway again and again and again as
our combined lusts drove us far beyond normal lovemaking. With each crack of
the spoon I gave her the pain that continued to push her excitement to levels to
a pinnacle that a normal woman would never be able to even begin to comprehend.
Her head bucked in tune with her body sending those gorgeous golden locks
cascading over her back. That gentle swell of her back into her hips and the
hour-glass look formed by my overly tight application of her corset enthralled
me as my cock reveled within her ass. Glancing downward I took in her legs as
they strained to propel her hips, perched so precariously on their stilt-like
heels.
It was all more than I could bear, and soon my juices to flow into her like some
hot milky enema. She groaned in exaltation as she felt my member come, but
still she rode me praying for her own release. Feeling both pity and love for
my baby, I dropped the spoon and drove my hand into her dripping twat. A few
flicks against her g-spot with one set of finger and another against her clit
set her to the moon. Her hips jerked even more wildly than when I was beating
her as her own orgasm overcame her.
I continued to pump more and more of my jism into her as the waves of her orgasm
spread throughout her body. Over and over again she continued to impale her
rump and I smiled to myself, as I knew her purpose. The pain plus my making her
feel the slave that she so longed to be was fueling her orgasms until one wave
would lead into the next and than the next. With luck and with my own
excitement running high and my hard on not yet dissipated she might get three
for my one.
Deciding to give her what she wished I began to wail at her legs and thighs with
the heavy wooden spoon. The angry swats were just what she needed and the
second wave burst over her. She cried out and reared and my deflating rod
finally fell from her body. Without waiting a second I took the thumb of the
hand that had been holding her corset laces and plunged it up her empty
bunghole. My fingers formed twin teasers upon her g-spot and clit respectively
as I began to rock my whole hand into her as if I was punching a heavy bag. She
strained her muscles to meet my heavy thrusts but again and I again I ruthlessly
pushed her towards the granite counter top. Like a prize fighter though she
came back one more time lowering her back and bracing her arms so that her body
could hold and now even meet my thrusts.
Her breathing was so labored, because she only could gain air through her nose
that it began to sound like the bellows in a blacksmiths shop. Short gasping
breaths, punctuated by mewing and moaning groans of ecstasy as her next orgasm
neared.
Crack. Crack. Crack. I pulled my hand from her cunt and ass hole and began to
cane her rump in even measured stokes. Four, five, six, seven....
'Es... ESSS..... ESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!' She cried desperately through her gag as
the final orgasm over took her battered body. Her hips bucked to the unheard
music, but the power in them was fading fast as her exhaustion overwhelmed her.
Leaning forward like a drunk at a bar she lay her head and shoulders upon the
cold stone as she fought to calm her breathing. I took pity on her and released
the gag, but refused to loosen the damning corset stays. No, she must learn to
endure her corsets as they were one of my favorite fetishes and she of course
was my pet.
Slowly, her breathing returned too normal and she levered herself back into a
standing position. Her legs quivered at the additional weight, but baby bought
them under control. Turning towards me, but not looking into my eyes she asked,
'Is there anything else that I can do for you Master?'
I swatted her ass lightly by way of a compliment and answered, 'I think that
will do for now. Although, I do wish you would hurry with those waffles. I
seam to have acquired an over powering hunger just recently!'
