My Monster
A bead of sweat rolled down my temple as I listened to myself heavy breathing inside my own head. My jaw, sore from being held open in such an unnatural position. I could feel saliva pooling in my mouth, as its overflow gently passed through the ring gag, landing on the floor just below my upheld chin. I tried to swallow and stop it with my tongue, but it was of no use. There was a strap attached to the top of the head harness, efficiently holding my head back uncomfortably, but I quietly appreciated the messy alternative of having my face resting on the floor amidst my own spittle.
My knees burned and my feet cramped, as I switched from pointing my toes to tucking them in as if I could squat. The spreader bar between my ankles held me fast, as did the cuffs locked to the middle of the bar for my wrists. With arms stretched down my front and between my legs, I could hardly move, leaving my ass prominently displayed in the air like a Thanksgiving pig on a platter. The short chain that locked my collar to her closet floor did very little as escape was impossible. To add insult to injury, the strap holding my head back, snaked it's way between my buttocks, almost cutting me in half before anchoring itself around my scrotum and penis. Its dual purpose: to hold in the pyrex butt plug that was just a little larger than I was used to. Not big enough to hurt, but the perfect size to make me uncomfortable.
Ordinarily I would have been dripping with excitement through my chastity cage, but today I felt wronged and misunderstood. I was being punished for an act that had good intentions if I could have just explained. She would hear none of it. Just after locking on the ring gag, she looked into my pleading eyes and said,
"Remember my love, there are no safewords for punishment, you will endure this."
I hate being punished. Not because it hurts or is uncomfortable, but because she's disappointed in me, and that hurts me inside like no physical punishment can. If she would only have let me explain my intentions.
I guess I should start from the beginning….
We met by chance. I had taken a temporary position at a firm in order to build some experience. It was common practice really, graduate, work as many temporary but academically related jobs as you can, then find that permanent dream job someplace close to home. All my school colleagues were in the same position, it was all part of the game you had to play.
The work was always mundane, and since you were a temp, nobody really got to know you. You didn't socialize with any workmates, just did your job, and went home. I was almost invisible. Needless to say, being so alone in the big city left me with lots of evenings to browse porn on the internet in my empty apartment. The internet was salvation for my sexual differences. I knew I was submissive from a very early age, and the internet helped me put a name on these differences. I even attended local kinky munches with no fear, because I knew this town was far from my home. The chances of being outted by someone I knew was very slim.
Munches were always a brief reprieve from vanilla life. The lifestyle brought together many different kinds of people and they all gathered once a month to feel like some sort of family. I did enjoy the gatherings very much, but unlike many there, I was not searching for a romantic match. Quite honestly, most of the people there were not my type at all. The Dommes typically came in a few flavours. There were the butch-like bingo playing types that only stopped smoking long enough to cough out a lung and order another coffee, and then there were the flakes who found the whole bdsm scene "like cool". These women were eventually found subbing for a just as flaky male Dom who needed them to massage his over inflated ego, all in the name of bdsm.
Still, for a lonely guy like me that kept his sexual feelings all bottled up inside for so long, the eccentric group somehow gave me the feeling of belonging. One of the more normal couples I'd met was Kelvin and his sub anne. I took to them right away and enjoyed their company at munches. They somehow stood out from the rest of the "riff raff" and were far from eccentric. Right from my first munch I somehow identified with them.
So it was a typical day at work like any other really, my routine almost becoming mindless by days end. I'd see the same faces, say the same hellos do the same work. It wasn't until my schedule changed ever so slightly that I finally ran into her. I opted to take my lunch an hour later than normal so that my department could deal with some scheduling problems. It was no big deal for me, in fact it made the day go by a little quicker. At my designated lunch hour I slipped into the staff room and rummaged through the refrigerator for my brown paper bag.
It was then that my ears heard it. The signature sound of a pair of heels on the hard workplace floor. They were distant down the hall, but getting louder. Consciously keeping an eye on the lunchroom doorway I settled in the corner of the room at an empty table. The heels got louder. I pondered what kind of heels they were, sandals perhaps. Often my shoe fetish yearnings would be disappointed by a pair of flat, closed toe penny loafers or much worse, cowboy boots on an equally unattractive man. Holding my sandwich to my mouth I was about to take my first bite, when they rounded the corner into the lunchroom. They were patent black thongs with a very small spike style heel. The dainty ankle strap wound it's way a couple of times before being tied off in front with a perfect bow. They were spotless, and framed perfectly a wonderful pair of French manicured feet that wore them. I couldn't take my eyes off of them as my jaw was left hanging in front of my sandwich. It wasn't until they stopped at the lunchroom counter that I snapped out of my daze and looked at the person who owned them. It was Lucy.
Lucy was in her mid 30's, about 5'8" with long brown hair and huge brown eyes. She was the kind of girl that just blended into the crowd when she was in her 20's, but as other women around her the same age married off, got pregnant and cut their hair, Lucy remained the same. She still paid attention to her looks and took care of herself, much the same way she did when she was younger, and it showed. She no longer blended in, but stood out like a rose amongst a bunch of dandelions. I knew very little about Lucy, other than her presence was intimidating, and her looks were amazing. When the topic of Lucy came up amongst other male workers, often the females in the room would chime in with insults and try to point out Lucy's flaws. I'm sure they were just envious of her looks, company status, or both.
"Temp?" she said
"Excuse me?" I replied as I snapped out of my haze.
"Are you a temp?" She repeated in a slightly sterner voice.
"Oh yes, I was lost in thought here and not paying attention, I'm sorry. My name is Alex, I'm on a 3 month contract."
"Ah," she said nodding like she's seen hundreds of boys like me.
The truth was there was so many men in the office googly over Lucy that she was a trophy I could never have. Professionally I was an amateur and probably a little too plain for her in the looks department.
Keeping my eyes to myself, I snuck peeks at her when she wasn't looking. Hearing her heels clip clop across the floor was like music to my ears. Seeing those wonderful patent shoes on her gorgeous feet was music to my eyes. Lucy prepared her lunch in an almost meticulous fashion. Much time she spent buffing her tea cup before placing the bag inside. Then she added one teaspoon of sugar in an almost rehearsed eloquence making sure that not a single granule of sugar more than was desired was poured in. The handle of the mug had been placed in such a way so that her right hand would approach the cup at a perfect angle to retrieve it. She was almost a little obsessive compulsive about her behaviour.
With plate in hand, and tea in the other, she pivoted on one foot away from the counter and with that, her napkin had dropped to the ground. At this point my eyes were glued on her. She stood there for a moment, hands full, looking at the napkin, but made no attempt to bend down and pick it up. Then, she moved her eyes from the ground towards me and gave me a look. It was a look that heeded me to help, and not as a question, but more of an expectation that I would. I jumped from my chair.
"Lucy allow me." I said.
"That's so kind, thank you." She replied.
I picked up the napkin, dropped it in the garbage and retrieved a new one. I stopped and looked at her questionably because I didn't know which table she was going to sit at.
"Alex, join me," She paused.. "won't you?"
"Of course," I said.
Following her to a table she sat down and placed her plate and tea cup down, again with a peculiar disposition, paying attention to their exact location in front of her. As I stood beside her with the napkin, she looked at me and tapped her fingernail on the table, indicating to me where the napkin should go. Strangely, I placed the napkin down, and spent a half a second making sure it was straight and tidy. I'm not sure what compelled me to do it, other than I knew she'd appreciate the detail. I then retrieved my lunch, and enjoyed it with Lucy. Our lunch times corresponded together and since our lunches were late, nobody else joined us in the staff room. We spent the remainder of our time making small talk. The weather, politics, television etc.. I could tell she was getting bored with me. No matter though, it certainly was nice not to eat lunch alone, however I couldn't take my mind off of her pretty little feet encased in those amazing shoes, probably just inches away from my own. Then as quick as our meeting had started, it was over, and she was gone. She had even left her dirty plate on the table with her tea cup, so not thinking much of it, I washed them and put it all away. I buffed her tea cup, and placed it in the cupboard with the handle facing out, slightly angled towards the right.
Our lunches together became quite routine and predictable as well. The only thing that seemed to change was the bevy of shoe's she'd model for me each day. I swear she never wore the same pair twice. Just as predictable was my task of cleaning her lunch dishes and putting them away. It wasn't that I minded really, because she never gave me any indication that it was expected, but I often wondered if any day, she'd notice that they'd been magically cleaned and thoughtfully placed. I suppose cleaning up after her was a small price to pay, to be able to see those lovely shoes everyday. The thought did occur to me that she'd view my service as a petty attempt to brown nose, but the truth was I looked forward to cleaning her dishes to a spotless sheen and placing them at the ready for the next day. Definitely not the thoughts of any vanilla man I'm sure.
Chapter 2
So it was the 3 rd Wednesday of the month which meant after work, I'd go home, freshen up and head out to our local munch. I enjoyed the gatherings very much but I'd caught the attention of a particular Domme that had me in her sights. She was an attractive woman, about 25 years old with blonde hair and brown eyes. I could tell she was developing an interest in me because what was once and infrequent hello, had quickly become a mandatory grope of my behind every time we'd greet each other. Her name was Karen and she was relatively new to the scene. I'd learned that she was engaged to be married, and I remember wondering to myself why she was at munches exploring her sexuality if she was happy with another man. She explained to me that an ex boyfriend of hers had turned her onto the scene by accident. She told me a story of how one evening, she'd gone to her boyfriends house to meet with him after work so that they could spend a nice evening together, perhaps at a favourite restaurant. To kill some time while she waited for him to get ready, she sat at his computer and surfed the net. Not thinking, she clicked onto his favourites folder and was presented with a secret that her boyfriend had been keeping from her for the 2 years that they'd dated. The folder contained a plethora of kinky sex websites, dealing with dominant females. As she scrolled through each site, flipping through page after page of leather clad, whip wielding women, standing tall over subservient men, kneeling naked at their feet, she became enraged with disgust. Disgruntled she turned it off and left his apartment brimming with anger. She explained to me that the mistrust was something she could not overlook, and the perverted likes of this man was too much for her to handle and they split. As time went on she couldn't help wonder about the images she'd seen on her ex's computer. She spent some time online researching what she'd later found out to be BDSM. Mildly intrigued she became a regular at our monthly gatherings and sought to learn more, but managed to get on with her life in finding a trustworthy vanilla partner.
For me, there was no secret that I had pent up years of sexual frustration at the hands of being different. Being able to express myself as a submale was something that I was longing for indeed, but didn't know exactly how it would become a reality for me. Prospective play with Karen did excite me very much, but for some reason the red flags were telling me play with her would be unfulfilling.
Cleaning up my desk at the end of the day, I gathered a few things and headed for the parking lot. Along the way I passed the water cooler and there stood Lucy, chatting to a colleague about relevant company business. As I approached her she was in full view, and I took notice that she'd changed her heels since I saw her at lunch. She'd changed into a pair of very cute flats; in fact, they almost lacked the "down to business" attitude that she normally projects. They were pink, patent, and had a playful white flower design on the straps that criss-crossed her toes. I walked by her maintaining eye contact in case she looked my way. Interestingly enough, she tended to ignore me outside of our daily lunchroom date, and today was no exception. As I passed her she had no idea I was even in the room, in fact we almost brushed shoulders as I strolled by.
At home, I tossed my keys on the counter, checked my messages on the machine of which there were always none, and headed for the shower. I turned on the water and let it run. On a good day it took a good five minutes for hot water to reach me in my crappy little apartment so I used the time to pick out something nice to wear to the munch. Naked, I slipped into the steam filled bathroom, adjusted the water temperature and climbed in. I stood there with the water beating on my shoulder blades, letting the pulses wash away the days stresses. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, slowly letting the spray overcome my head and run over my face. Taking some deep breaths my mind wandered and images of Lucy began to surface. I pictured myself naked and serving her lunch, with a protocol that she expected of me. After, as she ate, I'd be kneeling beside the table with my head lowered, and as a playful gesture, she'd often place one foot in my lap, knowing that the shoes she had on were driving me crazy. Her perfectly manicured toes wiggling in my lap would be so close to me, yet my clasped hands in the small of my back would be so far away. Standing in the shower, I pleasured myself to the thought, and had an orgasm with the vigor of a sixteen year old boy. Snapping out of what had just happened I almost lost my balance and fell. With that I opened the window for some fresh air, finished with my shower, toweled off and proceeded to get dressed.
I chose a pair of black jeans and a red short sleeve shirt that showed off my farmers tan I'd worked so hard on. I recall the days of college, when every waking moment was spent with friends at the beach, and our tans were something from a Coppertone commercial. Being caught up in school and then a career, I've almost forgotten what sand feels like on the bottom of my feet. Finally, brushing the days coffee out of my teeth I was off.
The munches were held in a little obscure bar called "The Heuther" in an artsy part of town. Weekends the bar was filled with Birkenstock wearing students, sampling home made micro-brews and reciting original works of poetry. Weekdays the place was relatively dead so our once a month gatherings were always received with a warm welcome from the owners. Extra staff was always brought in and food specials were often tailored to our tastes. It was funny to watch new staff members suddenly realize what our group was all about, especially when you'd see the more seasoned staff whispering our secrets into the ears of the novices. The reaction was always the same, their jaws would drop, then they'd look around the room in almost a quiet disbelief and wonder how such a normal looking crowd could be so devious behind bedroom doors. I swear some of the waiters were closeted submissives because once they were in the "know" they'd often fumble trying to get a Domme's order right.
Walking in I was delighted to see that Kelvin and anne were already there. I shook a few hands and proceeded to join them. They were a wonderful couple. Kelvin and anne had met online and were a perfect match in every way. Both had previous experience with bdsm but had suffered with past kinky relationships that were not fulfilling. Their experience in the lifestyle was refreshing to me and talking to them really helped me put these strange feelings inside of me into perspective and with some normality too. I'll tell you the only thing worse than feeling different your whole life, is feeling different and alone. Meeting up with Kelvin and anne at munches I'm sure was saving me hundreds of dollars in therapy.
It wasn't long before Karen spotted me and approached the table. I stood to greet her out of respect and politeness. Even though we'd only really seen each other at munches, she felt comfortable enough to hug me and of course not leave out the customary grope of my ass. As we embraced I felt her hand wander into the cleavage of my behind. I then stood to her side so that she could say hello to Kelvin and anne. While she was talking to Kelvin, I remained beside her and waited for a good moment to sit back down without interrupting. While I waited, I could feel Karen's hand still exploring my behind with a gentle touch. In fact, she'd moved her fingers even lower and was rubbing around my inner thigh. Her conversation with Kelvin continued and I was frozen in place. My legs actually began to burn a little as the long day had taken it's toll on me. Karen's lingering fingers brushed at the bottom of my scrotum and it started to feel very good. She knew exactly was she was doing and I was trying hard to remain focused and interested in the conversation. Truthfully, all the sounds in the room started to blend in with each other and I could do nothing but concentrate on Karen's touch.
"…. Alex… Is that okay with you?" Kelvin said.
"Oh, sorry Kelvin, I was zoned out there for a second, is what ok?" I replied
"That we all share a platter of wings," he repeated.
"Oh yes that's fine with me of course. Karen would you like to join us?" I asked.
"Yes I would Alex, and if you'd been paying attention, you'd know that I've already been asked," she said sternly but with a sly grin on her face.
"Oh, forgive me Ma'am," I said in a low voice.
Yes I had let "Ma'am" slip out. It was an unconscious reply that slipped through my lips before I even had a chance to stop it. Karen noticed it too and underneath her stern look, seemed a little pleased that I had used it.
We sat and enjoyed the evening together the four of us, talking about life, kink, relationships. The whole time Karen sat across from me, she had placed her foot on top of mine. At first, I though perhaps she just mistook my foot for the table leg but as the night rolled on it became clear she knew what she was doing. There was constant pressure and there was no way for me to remove my foot without Karen noticing. Even though the munch was a social gathering with no scening allowed, Karen's foot on mine was a constant reminder that she had some sort of control over me. If I wanted to leave the table, I was forced to appeal to her first. Also, it quickly became obvious that I had to go to the bathroom. The two beers I had with the wings had gone right through me. Not being able to move my foot, or even know what was expected of me if I had to leave the table, I sat patiently.
"Alex," Karen said looking right at me, "do you have to go to the bathroom?"
"Umm… yes I do." I squeaked out
"I thought so," she said, "you've been bouncing your other foot for the last ten minutes now. If you must relieve yourself all you had to do was ask."
I nodded in acknowledgement, pushed my chair back and was about to stand up, when I found that Karen's hold on the top of my foot did not yield. In fact she applied more pressure and looked me right in the face. Her expression had a sort of "what did I just tell you?" kind of look. The kind of look a Mother gives a child when she's already told him three times that she won't be buying that toy he's holding in his hand.
A little confused, I looked back at Karen and sat still in my seat. Kelvin and anne had stopped talking and were watching the dynamic that was flying around the table between Karen and I. I paused a second to look at Karen's eyes that were staring right at mine.
"May I go to the bathroom please?" I asked Karen
"May I go to the bathroom please WHAT, "she queried.
Quickly realizing what she was implying, I corrected myself,
"May I go to the bathroom please Ma'am?"
"Yes you may." She said smiling.
I looked at Kelvin and anne, and they too had a sly smirk on their faces. I suppose I was learning. Karen then took her foot off of mine and I was about to get up, when I realized I had a raging erection. What could I do? All eyes at the table were on me, and my bladder was starting to count down to zero. With that I got up, and Karen was looking right at my pants. So much for wondering if anyone would notice.
In the bathroom I relieved myself and then took a handful of cool water to splash my face with. As the water ran down my flushed cheeks, I looked at myself in the mirror and noticed I was shaking uncontrollably. It was like I had ten too many cups of coffee. Pausing, I took some deep cleansing breaths, wiped my face, and went back to the table.
The evening was winding down, and admittedly I was getting tired. Karen didn't continue with the little game she was playing with me under the table and I managed to suppress my shakiness. Checking our watches, we said our goodnights and all went home.
Chapter 3
It was business as usual at the office. The rest of the week was pretty routine; however lunchtime with Lucy was always far from mundane. A new project had her working in an area of the building that made it impossible for me to casually bump into her in the hall so the first time I'd get a chance to look at her was at lunch. Oh, how I looked forward to lunch. Lucy was a smart dresser, and as I sat in my cubicle moments before lunch, I'd ponder what type of outfit or shoes she'd have on that day.
It was now Friday, and just about lunchtime. Sneaking away from my desk five minutes early was becoming a habit I'd started to take on. It wasn't out of laziness for work, but so that I might get to the lunch room before Lucy. I would check and make sure the sugar was full, the tea bags were ready, and of course her mug and plate were readily available and clean. I had a bit of a shock recently, when I found that the overnight cleaning crew had come in on a particular day, and moved Lucy's tea cup to another cupboard. Frustrated she opened and closed door after door before finding it in an unlikely place, tucked away with the napkins and forks. I could tell the break in the routine bothered her. Of course there was no risk of her being upset with me, because she still never acknowledged just how her plate and cup would be clean for her each day. I suppose she just chocked it up to the housecleaning fairies and thought nothing of it. Her status in our firm probably came with responsibility that didn't have time to clean dishes. Still, I remember feeling quite disappointed that day, that all had not been provided for her in a manner that it should have been. I felt like less of a man somehow because things had not been perfect for her. She commented on my disposition over lunch and asked me about it but I brushed off her question with a bogus answer of not feeling so well. I was almost compelled to stop by her office and apologize because of the misplaced cup. I pondered to myself with wonder, why I was feeling this way and could not come up with an answer. All I knew is that somehow, on an emotional level, I felt better when things were perfect for Lucy, and vowed to make sure, at the very least, that her lunch would be pleasurable with me, and as close to perfect as I could make it, without her knowing what I was up to.
In the lunchroom I checked to see all was in place and settled down at the table. Like a fire alarm in my ears, the distant click, clack of Lucy's heels could be heard and goose-bumps appeared as the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I set my lunch out on the table, pretending to myself that the noise I was hearing was not exciting and that my shaking hands were still and calm as an August evening. The warning of Lucy's approach got louder and by now, I'd even memorized the meter and timing at which they struck the ground. The sound produced a distinct signature, that if blindfolded in a room of a hundred women, I now could pick Lucy's out instantly. When she rounded the corner, in an almost slow motion, I smiled at her beautiful face, only long enough to be polite, before my eyes would feast upon her gorgeous heels. Today, they were simple in style but carried the weight only a fetishist like me could appreciate. A wide band of black leather crossed her perfectly manicured toes, her high arch reaching to the top of the heel, where a single buckled wide strap encircled her ankle.
It warmed my heart to see Lucy calmly take her plate and cup from the expected spot in the cupboard. I also spent little time noticing that Lucy had forgotten a napkin, to which I hastily grabbed one and placed it in the desired spot on the table. The thought did occur to me that she'd forgotten it on purpose, but then my submissive brain has been guilty in the past of making hopeful expectations. There was never an utterance of a thank you either, but then again, one was never expected, I was happy to do it.
We chatted like always and before lunch was over Lucy mentioned that she was taking the next week off to take a course. When I asked what kind of course she only said something that was mandatory, but would help her as a career woman. Then as quickly as lunch started, it was over, and she was gone. As the sound of Lucy's heels trailed off, I tended to the dishes in an almost relaxed state, taking my time, knowing that I'd not be able to do it for the next week, which made me a little sad. I masturbated furiously in the company bathroom with the thought of Lucy fresh in my mind.
Friday night, I'd planned on relaxing and doing very little. I stopped on the way home, at this little Italian store to pick up some things; I was in the mood to cook. Dropping the bags on the counter with my keys, I checked my messages and flipped on my computer to check for emails as well. I changed into a pair of boxer briefs and a loose t-shirt, perfect attire for feeling comfortable and getting messy. I'd decided on making some pasta from scratch, complete with simmered sausages and home made sauce. The grilled chicken Caesar salad that accompanied it was pre-made, so I guess I cheated a little. I flipped on some appropriate music; I was in the mood for a strong commanding voice. I sang along with Sinatra as I worked the dough into the counter. Something about this music puts me in a good mood. Andrea Boccelli followed, and then this young fellow by the name of Josh Grobin. Amazing voice he has, the kind that gives you goosebumps as he hits the high notes. Look out Pavarotti, this young punk is on your heels.
Finally, about two hours after I'd walked in the door, dinner was ready. Placing my dish on the table I fidgeted with a few crumbs that were on the tablecloth, before lining up the plate perfectly with the edge of the table. I polished my silverware with a napkin before putting them in perfect line with my plate, poured a glass of Merlot, and enjoyed my efforts. This is just what I needed. After a fast paced week at work, eating out of brown paper bags and take out in the evening, it was nice to have a wholesome meal. I even finished off the dinner with a cup of espresso.
Leaning back in my chair, the sauce on my plate wiped clean, I stared over the table at my empty apartment. I pondered what I was going to do with my life, what it was I desired that would make me a happy man. Marriage, kids, moving back home; they all were subjects that rolled around in my mind. I rolled my espresso cup back and forth between my fingers, taking notice of a spot of coffee that had dried on the side of it. Taking a napkin I meticulously wiped it clean, paused, and thought of Lucy. My desire to submit to a worthy dominant woman was within me, almost like a hungry monster that didn't sleep. How on earth was I going to feed it?
"You've got mail!" the computer announced, and broke me out of my deep thought. Grabbing my half glass of remaining wine, I left the mess in the kitchen and sat at the computer. I was sure it was an email from my Mother, complete with the typical nagging of making sure I was eating right, wearing warm clothes, and pestering me to call her like a good son should.
The email, to my surprise, was from Kelvin and anne, my kinky munch friends. It was an invitation to come to their place for dinner on Saturday night. What a wonderful gesture I thought to myself. I really did enjoy their company, and it seemed like seeing them only once a month at munches was far too long and way too brief. The invite was perfect, because I'd not made any plans for Saturday. Who was I kidding; I never have plans on Saturday. I rifled off a reply saying I was delighted, thanked them, and was looking forward to tomorrow.
I spent the rest of the evening surfing smut on the net. Like munches, the net was my library for figuring out what this monster inside me was, and again, was probably saving me hundreds of dollars in therapy. The internet has an overabundance of information about D/s, everything from grown men wearing diapers and sucking their thumb, to women claiming to be witches and masters of the dark arts. Still, where else is it possible to find so many varying definitions of kink. It's a wonderful place, where an open mind will definitely help it make more sense. As I flipped through page after page of fetishes and kinkiness, I clicked on a video link that had this poor submissive man, kneeling naked in front of this thigh-high boot wearing, whip wielding Domme. His ass striped like a candy cane with welts and red lashes.
"Clean that filth off of my boot with your tongue", she shouted while pointing at her foot,
"You're not worthy of the dirt I'm feeding you, you worthless piece of trash!" she yelled at him.
Dynamic such as this bothered me, in fact I questioned if it was dynamic at all because it appears so one sided. Being called worthless or a piece of trash, contradicts the submissive feelings I have inside. I want my Domme to be proud of me, to the point where even showing me off to other Dommes would bring munch envy. Making her happy at the end of the day is my trophy for a job well done. How any man could revel and wallow in such degradation, and feel happy at all perplexes me. Perhaps there's something there I just don't understand. Yes it's important to keep an open mind indeed. I turned off the computer, and cleaned the kitchen before heading to bed.
Saturday I filled with some shopping and some time for a much needed haircut. I visited the liquor store and picked out a nice bottle of wine to take with me to Kelvin and anne's. Kelvin was born in Scotland, so as an added thought, I also picked out a nice single malt scotch as well.
Kelvin and anne lived just outside of town, in a very nice house that Kelvin had built. His original idea was to build and sell it, but anne had fallen in love with the place and begged not to leave. Tonight would be the first time I'd visited with them outside of munches, and the first time I'd seen their home. With bottles in hand, a new haircut, and some new clothes, I climbed the steps to the large door in front and rang the bell. When the door opened, anne greeted me in a knee length leather skirt, a very pretty blouse and a cute pair of black mules. Of course, Kelvin's metal collar was firmly locked around her neck. Anne's collar was beautiful and was custom made. Amongst the many different colours of brushed metal that it contained, and the lovely designs throughout, on either side of the small lions head holding a ring in his mouth, was Kelvin's initials. The piece was so delicate, that it caught the attention of many, and without trying to explain the whole lifestyle to everyone who had stopped her to see it, people would assume it was some sort of high fashion piece. Something you might see a model trod down the runway with in Paris. Only a kinky eye would see that the ring in the lion's mouth was fully functional, as was the tiny lock that kept it hasped around her neck.
"Alex how wonderful," she said, "come in, I'm glad you made it."
"Thank you very much anne, and thank you for having me."
Taking the bottles from my hand, anne yelled,
"Master, Alex has arrived."
Master… what a nice touch. I don't recall her ever using it at munches, it could very well be it was protocol that was reserved for home, so that it wouldn't become habit, and slip out amongst the vanilla crowd.
"Alex I'm glad you could come" Kelvin said with an outstretched hand.
The smell of dinner filled my nostrils as anne minced around the kitchen getting everything ready. Her heels clacked away on the ceramic tile, as Kelvin and I sat at the table making small talk. Taking the bottles from the brown bags I had brought, anne set them on the table.
"Single malt! Well, a very nice gesture Alex thank you. Let's enjoy a glass together" he said.
Anne took the cue right away and hustled to get two low ball glasses with some fresh ice cubes. As I sat there, I couldn't help but feel guilty, that anne was doing all the work and I was just sitting there enjoying the fruits of her labour. If it weren't for seeming impolite to Kelvin, I would have joined her and asked how I might help. Sipping his scotch in approval, Kelvin got up from the table and invited me to join him. He took me on a tour of the house, explaining all the intricate details of its architecture and building techniques. I nodded my head with interest as he spoke, convincing him that I had any idea what he was talking about. It was a beautiful home and I saw right away why anne was in love with it. It was just on the edge of town, close enough that everything you needed was a fifteen minute drive away, but far enough to escape the noise and bustle of the big city, with neighbouring houses not even within sight.
To finish the tour, Kelvin led me to the basement, again pointing out some intricacies, but this time the details he pointed out had a kinky flair to them. One storage room was full of BDSM dungeon equipment, tucked away so that it could be pulled out at a moments notice. The largest room he showed me was somewhat unfinished, but unlike many recreation rooms found in many homes, this one had some subtle differences. Stretching across the length of the room was a huge I-beam made of steel. Something you'd see in a commercial building that perhaps would be holding up many thousands of pounds of weight. In a house such as this, it seemed like a bit of overkill. It was then, that Kelvin pointed out the carefully placed eye hooks that cleverly dotted its length.
"Slave suspension is something not too many a builder keeps in mind I'm sure", he grinned
This tour, I smiled and thought to myself, was probably one that not many people got, with so much detail. I couldn't imagine what it would be like, to be in a relationship such as theirs, and have the sinfully delightful toys and private space like this, at your reach and available at anytime the mood strikes you.
"Master, dinner is almost ready!" anne shouted from the top of the stairs.
"Shall we?" he motioned with his arms to return to the dining room.
It hadn't seemed like we were gone for very long, but when I entered the dining room, the room we previously were in enjoying our scotch, it amazed me to see the transformation that had taken place. The table was completely set, and looked like it was about to receive royalty by the amount of detail and attention anne had paid to it. At the head of the table was Kelvin's place setting, cutlery and glasses set out in perfect order and place. Accompanying his place was two other settings reserved for ann and I on either side. The wine bottle had been uncorked, and the food was also on the table, strategically placed so that without stretch or lean, the head of the table would have first priority at the served wares. Standing behind her Master's chair, she pulled it out and waited for him to sit down. I stood frozen watching the protocol that was taking place, right before me. Quickly, anne then minced over to me and performed the same ritual, and I thanked her for the polite gesture.
Kelvin filled his plate, explaining to me what each item was. Some of it was familiar to me and some of it was not, as tonight's dinner had taken on a Scottish theme. As he piled food on his plate, he also served some to me as well. It occurred to me, that he had not even asked me which foods I'd not like, nor was he concerned with the quantity of which I'd desire. Not wanting to be rude, I just accepted it, and quietly thought to myself that I'd better eat it all, so as to not offend. As he did with me, he also served anne, but with far less portions than he had served me. In fact, anne's plate contained less than half of the food I had. Silently she graciously accepted it, and thanked him.
By this time I started in on a few things on my plate, hungry and anxious to try it. Anne on the other hand started serving the wine. When she was done, she placed the bottle back on its desired spot on the table, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and with a downward gaze, watched as her Master began to eat. It wasn't until he chewed a few bites, savoured her efforts, and nodded to her, that she reached for her fork. I mentally took note, and felt a little foolish for being so eager. Apparently I have very much to learn, and watching anne closely would teach me greatly.
Over dinner conversation was light, and protocol almost slipped away to the point of being unnoticeable. With the help of the wine and scotch, I was feeling very relaxed and comfortable in their company. When dinner was over, I almost had to fight with anne to let me help her clear the table. I wouldn't take no for an answer, guest or not, submissive or not, it was how my Mother raised me.
Sitting back down to some dessert and coffee with a dabble of Irish Cream, Kelvin and anne commented about the last munch. They said they quite enjoyed the little bit of dynamic that was happening at the table between Karen and I. They also asked me what I thought of Karen. I explained that Karen was a real nice person, and that I really enjoyed her company. I told them that I didn't want to assume too much about Karen, because honestly I didn't really know her all that well. I did tell Kelvin and anne that I thought it was peculiar Karen was engaged to be married, but was dabbling in the lifestyle as well. When they asked me if I would be interested in perusing a "play partner" type of relationship her, I almost felt like they were acting on Karen's behalf.
"Well Karen did approach us," said anne,"and asked us what we knew about you, but she just left it at that."
"I hope you said good things!" I laughed.
So to give Kelvin and anne a better picture of myself, I tried to explain to them what kind of submissive I was, and what kind of Domme I thought would be most compatible with me on an emotional level. The truth was though that I was relatively new to all of this. Just what type of qualities this "compatible Domme" I had in mind would have, just may change over time as I learn about how submission fits into my life. With nodding heads, they agreed with me, especially since the both of them had been through previous D/s relationships that didn't work out. I guess I never ruled Karen out, but there were some red flags about her that made me a bit uncomfortable.
We enjoyed each other's conversation well in to the late evening. Thanking them both very much, it was time for me to leave. Exchanging goodbyes, they both indicated that they'd love to do this again sometime, and I was more than happy to oblige. I really enjoyed my relationship with them, and was glad I was welcome in their home.
Chapter 4
My week at work dragged on forever. With Lucy away for the week, my days at work had become nothing more than a job, with little to look forward to other than the end of the day. Every so often my ears would perk up to the sound of high heels, resonating down the hall as they hit the ground, and for a moment, a rush excitement would wash through me. It wouldn't take a moment to realize however that it wasn't Lucy. Lunchtime was lonely, and as I sat with my paper bag lunch, I'd look at the cupboard where Lucy's plate and cup were. Untouched and unused, I even took it upon myself once to clean her dishes anyway, just in case they got a little dusty.
I had managed to make it to Thursday, which for some of the people around the office, meant it was pub night. Every Thursday a certain clique would slip over to the local pub for a couple of drinks before heading home. A few minutes before five o'clock, Jake slipped his head into my cubicle,
"Hey Alex, its pub night tonight. Care to join us for one or two?"
Thinking to myself that I hardly knew these people, my first reaction was to politely decline, but with the way the week was going, perhaps doing something less typical would be a good idea.
"Sure I'd love to," I said, "where does everyone go?"
"It's a little place but the atmosphere is cool and they have many different types of beer to sample. It's called the Heuther." He said
I gasped to myself as he was giving me directions like I should have no idea where it was.
Slapping on my desk with his hand as he left, Jake said "Ok then, see you there."
Honestly it was nice to get out and break the routine. Being a temp never seems to give you the opportunity to make friends with colleagues. Of course the main topic of discussion over drinks was work, and how everyone hated it, and if they owned the company, they'd do this or that differently. People are people no matter where you go it seems. After a couple of beers, the group of eight or ten of us really started to loosen up. I was sitting at the end of a long table, closest to Jake, with a few other people from the finance department. I wasn't really involved in the conversation because as names of people were shooting around the table, I didn't have a clue who they were. Another permanent side effect from always being a temp. Then, like I could hear a needle drop in a noisy room, someone started talking about Lucy.
"Yes Lucy, hella good body, beautiful face, but cold as ice." Someone said.
"What I wouldn't do for a night with her," another one chimed in.
"Like any of us would have a chance," Jake said.
"Who'd want her for more than a night though," one fellow began "she's a vixen, that bitch would tear you apart if you lived with her. I feel sorry for the poor sap who marries her."
I kept myself out of the conversation by remaining neutral and just shaking and nodding my head. I knew that the attractive qualities I saw in Lucy would go unnoticed by these Neanderthals. Still, it was nice to get out with some co-workers and having a few pints at the Heuther was far better than sitting in my empty apartment.
"Actually," Jake said, "I see that you've managed to have lunch with Lucy now and again Alex. How did you manage to pull that off?"
"I don't know," I said, "our lunch break just seems to fall at the same time."
"Yea right," said Jake sarcastically, "Lucy strikes me as someone who gets along better with quiet men."
"Yes quiet," someone said, "a man that will take all her crap more like it."
I smiled, and waited for the Lucy bashing to end. It occurred to me that had it not been for my personality, and my kinky persuasion, I just might be agreeing with what was being said, but rather than feel like my judgment of Lucy was clouded, I felt more like I was enlightened instead.
The evening came to an end and I took my queue to leave as well. I thanked Jake for inviting me and was glad that I got to socialize with a few people outside of work. Perhaps after my employment term was done, a few of them might remember me instead of just being one of the many nameless temps that churn through.
My keys slammed on the counter as I listened to my answering machine tell me I had no new messages. Surprise. It was about nine in the evening so I flipped on my computer and began to run a hot bath. While I was undressing I could hear my computer announce that I had mail waiting. Naked I went into the living room and sat at the computer, thinking that the email was probably from my Mother, and that somehow, reading it in my birthday suit was just all wrong.
The message was from anne. She thanked me for the wonderful dinner visit, and of course the helping hand I lent with cleaning up dinner. She said that she knew I'd have trouble sitting there while she did all the work. It's a true submissive trait and she's exactly the same way. The purpose of anne's letter wasn't just to thank me though, but to ask me about my availability as a single man. Her letter went on to say that she had a close friend looking for a real life play partner, which was struggling a little and was fairly new to the lifestyle. It was important to anne that her good friend be paired up with someone who wasn't going to take advantage of her, and be genuine, not only as a man, but in his submission as well. She also outlined that her friend wanted to be discreet with this because everything was very new to her, and that's why anne was the one sending me the letter to ask how I felt.
"If you feel this is something you'd like to pursue Alex, then a simple yes will suffice and I'll give you more details. If this is something you are not looking for at all, then I'll respect that as well, and not bother you with it again," the letter went on to say.
"Karen," I thought to myself.
I knew after that little episode at the munch, that Karen was eager to take it to the next level. The little bit of power exchange that we had in that short time was pretty amazing, and Karen is a great person, not to mention easy to look at as well. The fact she wanted to be discreet was certainly because of her situation with her fiancé. My immediate worries however were that Karen was just dabbling, and of course, she'd not be available for a long term relationship because she's committed to another man. The opportunity however was just too tempting, and I thought to myself that at the very least, on some level, I'd be helping Karen, and she'd be helping me to learn as well. With very few words, I replied to anne's email, stating that I was interested and would be waiting anxiously for more details.
I left the computer to check on my bath and get a few toiletries ready. To my surprise the water in the tub was luke warm. Grumbling at this old apartment, I emptied most of the water and proceeded to fill the rest of the tub with hot water. I slipped into my bedroom to get my robe, when I heard the computer notify me of another message. Still naked, I went to see who it was from.
Wow, it was from anne. She must have been sitting right at her machine to come up with a reply so quickly. The letter read as follows:
Alex I'm so excited that you agreed to do this! How wonderful and fun it is to play matchmaker. I'm confident that this step you are taking is the right one. For now however, my friend would like to communicate to you through me. She'd like her first formal play date with you to be exactly as she wants it so that it might set the tone with you and make sure your mindset is proper from the very beginning.
Miss requests that we all meet on Saturday, here at Master's house at 6 O'clock sharp. You will bring with you a bottle of Frangelico. It's an imported Italian liqueur and is Ma'am's favourite. When you arrive, you will climb the steps at the front of the house to find a small velvet bag. You will kneel and take the note that will be inside the bag waiting for you. On the note you'll find instructions you are expected to follow.
I'm looking forward to seeing you again Alex, as is Miss I'm sure!
Sincerely, anne
I was speechless. I sat and stared blankly at the screen letting what just happened slowly sink into my psyche. My manhood was raised and hard, pulsing with a vigor that I haven't felt in a long time. Reading, and rereading my instructions, again and again, I burned them into my brain. Lest I forget a single detail.
My concentration was broken, by the sound of dripping water. I leaped from my chair and bolted to the bathroom, where I found the tub overflowing. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't tell if it was the tub or the letter that was causing it. I settled into the warm water and tried to calm my nerves, but all I could think about was meeting Karen on Saturday.
Chapter 5
It was Friday, and the end of a tremendously long week. My mind was a fury of excitement, anticipating my evening at Kelvin and anne's. I tried very hard to stay calm, and remind myself that over expectation, often leads to disappointment, so it was important for me to take things a step at a time. Even if Karen didn't work out for the long term, what was about to happen to me I was sure, would feed that monster within me. Feed him a meal that contained a quality of which he's never tasted before. It was hard to contain the perma-grin chiseled into my face.
At work, morning hellos were definitely a little more warmer than I was used to. It seems pub night was a bit of a social success. Familiar faces, including Jake's, made it easier to raise my chin high and have a conversation. If I had nothing in common with these people, at the very least, I could say we all enjoyed some conversation and a few drinks together.
Lunchtime was another lonely one, but since it was Friday, it would be the last lunch I'd take alone for awhile. Lucy would be back next week and she'll definitely be a site for sore eyes. I took the opportunity to rewash her dishes, so that they would be fresh for Monday, and made sure the tea and sugar canisters were topped up. It occurred to me that I'd become the lunchroom fairy, and nobody knew it.
At the end of the day I strolled past Lucy's office, just to see if she had popped in for last minute things, but she hadn't. I politely walked through her department and smiled at the ladies that were winding down for the weekend. Peering into Lucy's office through the open door, I could see a pair of heels she'd left behind. I couldn't make them out but it was my guess they were an emergency pair for whatever reason she needed them. Then, in an instant, Saturday's meeting with Karen filled my mind and I was rushing out of the office like Fred Flintsone at quitting time.
My first order of the weekend: find a bottle of Frangelico. I could think of at least 3 liquor stores between the office and my apartment so off I went. Stopping at the first store, which happened to be the largest, I was confident I'd find what I needed. Browsing around and not really knowing what I was looking for save for the name, I was having trouble finding it.
"Can I help you find something sir?" a voice approached
"Oh yes thank you," I said, "I'm looking for an Italian liqueur called Frangelico"
"Hmmmm" the store patron said quizzically,"Frangelico, haven't heard of that one, let me look it up"
He went to the counter and flipped through the pages of a catalogue which must have been the bible for booze. There were all kinds of concoctions listed there.
"Ah yes here it is," he said, "Frangelico… yep… never had it before, but I can order a bottle for you."
"Oh that would be great, when could I expect to pick it up?" I asked
"You'll have to give me a week," he said
"Oh!" I laughed, "that will never do, I need it by tomorrow."
"Good luck to ya sonny." He said with a sly grin.
I thanked him and was on my way. The unfortunate thing was this process repeated itself, over and over again, no matter where I went. Store after store, nobody had a bottle of it in stock. My nerves were frazzled. What was I to do? Here it is, 24 hours before my first meeting as a submissive with Karen, I've been given my first task, and I'm failing to complete it. Feeling a little defeated, I decided I could do one of two things. One, get on the phone and expedite my search, or two, book a plane to Italy and be back with a bottle before tomorrow night.
At home I feverishly dialed store after store. Some were nice enough to talk with me, others brushed me off saying they were too busy at the moment to help. The more phone calls I placed, the farther and farther geographically I was getting. Then, surfaced a small glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel.
"Well I don't carry that label son, but you might try Frankie in Bradley Harbour. He gets a lot of tourists around them parts and I know he's privy to a few strange brands," the man said.
"Thank you, I'll give it a try!" I shouted and hung up the phone.
Bradley Harbour was a small tourist spot, about 80 miles west of the city. Between here and there was nothing but farmland. I looked up Frankie's number and dialed feverishly.
"Yes, I've got a bottle of Frangelico here but it's my last one, and I like to keep it ready for a regular customer of mine. I suppose I could let ya have it as long as I get on the horn and order some more," said Frankie
I thanked him over and over again, almost to the point of being pathetic. Frankie explained to me that he was just about to close up for the night, but he was open for a couple of hours on Saturday. Tourist season was all but finished so he didn't find the need to keep the store open on such slow days.
"I'll be here round 10 or so, plan on leavin bout noon, so you're welcome to it if I see ya, "he said.
Again, I thanked him like he was God himself and hung up the phone. I'm not sure what he must have thought of me, other than perhaps I was some sort of full blown alcoholic and needed my Italian fix.
Thunder clapped and woke me out of a dead sleep. Turning to the clock radio, I could see it was 7am. There's no such thing as 7am on a Saturday so I laid in bed and tried to fall back to sleep. All I could think about was what I had to do today, and of course meeting Karen to start my journey as her boy, where I could let my inhibitions go and finally express my sexuality in a way I've waited for, for years. Letting my thoughts get the best of me, I began to pleasure myself. There was no doubt that lately I've been surrounded by all sorts of kinky stimulus and my mind has been working overtime. Closing my eyes I recalled seeing Lucy's vacant heels inside her office, but this time, she was there. Barefoot and gazing out into the hall she notices me and beckons me to come in and help her with a problem. From her leather chair she explains to me that she'd just painted her fingernails and was late for a meeting. The strappy pair of sandals beside her desk would pose a problem for her to put on.
"Be a dear won't you Alex and help me with my shoes?" she asks with her voice up an octave or two.
Kneeling in front of her, she'd place a foot in my lap while blowing on her nails to help them dry. Gently I'd lift the back of her heel and slide the sandal on slowly so as to not pinch or pull. Wiggling her toes to seat it correctly, her calf would tense and with toe pointed, she'd press into my lap to better steady her foot, so that I could buckle the delicate ankle strap. My breathing would be heavy, my hands shaking….
With eyes closed and a quickened pace, I released an extremely intense orgasm. Breathless I gathered my thoughts, cleaned up, and headed for the shower.
From my bathroom window I could see that the weather outside was very unsettled. Wind was blowing the rain so hard, that it almost looked like it was traveling sideways. The window whistled with each forceful gush. Toweling off i flicked on the local news to see that the storm was causing some difficulty in town. There were a few trees down, and the massive influx of water has caused a little bit of flooding in the low lying areas. I lounged around the apartment, trying to let the storm pass, so that my trip to see Frankie would be a successful one. I knew I had till noon to get there so leaving around 10 would leave me lots of time. There's no traffic heading out that part of town so I knew I could make it in an hour. Settling in I kept an eye on the weather and had some breakfast.
At 10am I headed out the door after one last look at the weatherman, who was telling me that the worst of the storm was over. From the wind that almost pushed me down in the parking lot, my thoughts were the contrary. The storm was relentless. Once I got out of the city I was relieved to see that there were no cars on the highway to Bradley Harbour. The storm had already put me behind a little though. A ten minute drive to the edge of town had taken me a half an hour. Counting the hours on my hand, I was confident I could make it to Frankie's Liquor store in an hour. My confidence however was soon shattered. The downpour was so fierce, that I had to adjust my speed. Visibility was almost non existent and I was getting a little nervous. I considered turning back, but I'd made it this far already, and couldn't bare to see a disappointed Karen when I walk in holding nothing. Sweating bullets, and looking at my watch every two minutes, by the time I pulled into Bradley Harbour, it was quarter past noon.
Defeated, I pulled into Frankie's store hoping for a miracle. Standing at the door with the rain pouring down, I grasped the handle, took a deep breath and pulled. It was locked. I was shattered.
"Not exactly a great day for a daytrip is it?" I heard him say.
Looking behind me I saw a car had pulled in next to mine.
"I'm Frankie, is there something I can help you with?" he said.
"Oh thank God it's you!" I yelled.
"Ah," he said smiling, "you must be Frangelico. I saw that you were the only car driving around and I figured you weren't from town so I followed you."
Once in the store Frankie took off his hat and flicked on the lights. From behind the counter he pulls out this dark brown bottle shaped like a woman with her arms folded wearing a dress. As water dripped from my nose I explained the bottle was a gift, and that this woman it was for has particular tastes. He understood completely.
"Matters of the heart make us do strange things," he said, "and women make us do things even stranger."
I agreed completely. Taking what looked like a black leather hair ribbon with a black rose in the middle, Frankie tied it to the bottle so it looked like woman on the bottle was wearing it in her hair. Tying it off he pushed the bottle towards me.
"There ya go, that'll be twenty dollars," He said.
With great thanks I handed him a Fifty and told him to keep the change. Bantering back and forth about the extra cash, I finally convinced him that he was doing me a huge favour, and appreciated it very much. Shaking hands I was on my way.
Standing outside the store I looked up at the sky, to see that the storm had completely cleared. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the air had that familiar "fresh rain" smell to it. Shaking my head I thought to myself that the timing of the storm couldn't have been worse. I was sure Mother Nature was secretly a sadist. Needless to say I made it home in half the time.
Anticipating the rest of the afternoon would slowly drag on, I tried to relax as best I could, but the anxiety was killing me. Sneaking in a nap was of no use, it just couldn't be done. Again as 6 o'clock was drawing near, I checked my watch every two minutes. I tried to mentally calculate how long everything would take me in preparation to going to Kelvin and anne's place, so that I'd be there at exactly the requested time. I showered again, and paid attention to being completely thorough with my hygiene. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering and I was unsure why. I mean, it wasn't like I'd never met Karen before, and I was completely comfortable with Kelvin and anne. Thinking about it more, the reason for feeling so skittish was probably because I was formally going to present myself as a submissive man. There would be no turning back, no laughing off nervousness, no changing the subject to get out of a tense situation. I would submit myself. I would do as I'm told, be a proud man for doing it, represent Karen well, and most importantly, have no say in how the evening would unfold. Goosebumps shivered from the back of my neck, to the heels of my feet. Checking my watch, yet again, it was time for me to leave. With a check of my appearance in the mirror for one last time, I tried to recite in my head what was expected of me, so I had everything right. Of course it wasn't until I was nervously trying to fit the key into my car door that I realized, I'd forgotten the Frangelico in the house. I was a nervous wreck.
Driving to Kelvin's place I found my impatience getting the best of me. Every light seemed to be Red, and every slow driver seemed to be in front of me. Despite all this stress I was putting myself through, by the time I had reached the end of Kelvin's driveway, I was ten minutes early. Pausing and considering my options, my instructions were to arrive at 6pm sharp, so it would seem to me that being early would be just as inconsiderate as being late. I drove around the block 3 times.
Slowly climbing the steps to the front door, I had an unnerving feeling that I was being watched. The truth was, the house was so big, that it was very possible to drive in unnoticed. As the final landing broke my horizon, I saw the small leather pouch. At the top, with the pouch at my feet, I stared straight ahead, took a deep breath and felt like I was at the precipice of something life altering, at the point of no return. Closing my eyes, I steadily descended to my knees. The landing was unyielding and cold. I stared at the pouch for a moment, still with the uneasy feeling of being watched. With good posture, knees together and chin held high, I reached for its contents. Inside was the note:
I'm so glad you are here my boy. Now make me proud and follow these simple instructions. Inside you'll find a blindfold. I want you to remain kneeling, take the blindfold in your hands, and study the location of the doorbell. When you're sure you can ring it blindly, you may place the blindfold on, reach out and ring the bell. You will then neatly fold your hands behind your back. I will be with you shortly.
Mistress
A bead of sweat formed on my left temple and I slipped into an almost catatonic state. I did as I was told, studied the doorbell, and then lowered the blindfold over my emotionless face. The darkness that descended was inviting and liberating. Control was no longer mine. My fingertip shook violently, as I reached out to find the doorbell, and managed to press the button.
A minute of silence passed and I grew nervous. What if nobody heard the bell? What if my watch wasn't keeping the right time? What if… The silence was broken with an all too familiar sound of heels clacking across what sounded like a ceramic tile floor. It was a commanding sound, and I knew she was coming for me. It occurred to me that I'd not heard that for over a week, and deep inside I'd missed it, yearned for it. The door opened, and there I was, a grown man, blindfolded and obediently kneeling in submission, with hands behind my back, right hand grasping left wrist. I could hear her breathing, I wondered if she was smiling.
Without a word, I then heard the jingle of a buckle, and then with my chin still held high, I felt a band of leather being fastened around my neck. A collar. What followed next was the sound of a lock clicking closed, sealing my fate. There was another pause. Perhaps she was admiring me, perhaps she had noticed my excited state through my pants, perhaps she was laughing at my predicament.
A leash was attached to the front of a collar and with an encouraging pull; I was lifted to my feet. She turned me back to lead me down the stairs, the gentle pulls of the leash guiding me down each step. At the bottom of the steps we took a turn, I could hear her heels on the driveway. My best guess is that she led me to a back door into the house, and from what I could remember of Kelvin's place, the back door led into the basement. Once inside, my ears filled with musical notes. It was a piano. The notes were crisp and the almost had a ritualistic beat to them. It occurred to me that perhaps we weren't alone in this room.
I was lead up a single step, onto something that had an acoustic tone of wood, like a small stage. The leash went limp, dangled down the front of me. Two hands then gently pressed my chest, to guide me in a backwards motion. Stepping back, I stopped when something narrow pressed along the length of my spine. Like my neck, a wrap of leather was placed upon each wrist; the tattle tale sound of a small lock securing each buckle was heard again. Drawn out to the sides, each arm was affixed, outstretched, held in a position much like a crucifix. The music continued to play, and I lost the perception of where she was in the room. Her heels would walk past my left side, then my right, then disappear altogether. I was on display, and she was able to get a good look at me, before I was even allowed a simple glimpse of her. She was in control, and intended on making that clear to me from the very start.
Strapped there, and rigidly excited for the whole time, moments passed. Perhaps seconds, perhaps minutes, perhaps a half an hour, I didn't know. The music then stopped, and the echoing sounds of her heels approached. Stepping in front of me I could smell her hair and I could hear her breathe. She released my arms and pulled me forward, so that I was standing on the edge of this wooden platform I'd stepped up onto. Feeling her place her arms on my shoulders, she pushed me down to a kneeling position in front of her. Her hand grasped my chin, and raised it up, as if I'd be looking right in her eyes, had I been able to see.
Feeling her lean in close, the hairs of her cheek brushing mine, her lips inches away from my ear, she whispers:
"Would you like to see who owns you dear boy?"
Gulping, "Yes Ma'am" I squeeked out.
Her hand left the bottom of my chin and for a moment brushed the side of my face with the backside of her fingers. I felt she was smiling upon me with proud adoration. With both hands tracing the bottom of each eye patch, she slowly lifted off the blindfold.
As my eyes tried to adjust to the light, her vision slowly came in focus. Standing over me and smiling….. was Lucy.
Yes, it was Lucy, and she was beautiful. I've dreamed of being in this very spot many times, her collar locked around my neck. She looked down upon me and smiled brightly. It was a smile I'd never seen her do at work. She was genuinely happy. I tried to form words, appropriate words, but I found none, my breath was lost. Reaching around to the back of my head, she pulled me in close, my cheek pressed tightly up against her stomach. My circuits had overloaded, my cup runneth over, tears welling in my eyes. She coddled me and told me it was ok.
Looking up at her through a tear streamed face I said, "But how?"
She wiped the tears from my eyes, removed the leash from the collar and said, "Come boy, I'll tell you over dinner."
It was then that I saw Kelvin and anne standing in the corner, smiling from ear to ear. With collar and cuffs still locked on, I followed Lucy upstairs, still visibly shaken from what happened. It was heaven. It was amazing. I was free.
We all settled around the table for dinner. Anne of course dancing around the room as she did before, displaying her culinary prowess. This time there were four place settings. One at each end of the table, and of course one on each side of the table, so that each slave would be at arms reach. Seeing that I had not quite landed yet, Lucy pulled my chair away from the table, and placed it in an adjoining room. She then pointed to the floor where the chair once was.
"You'll be kneeling here, my boy," She said.
Her words echoed in my head over and over. I was her boy, I was elated.
The conversation over dinner was very once sided. Lucy took the opportunity to try and erase all the question marks that were clearly visible in my eyes. Kelvin and anne actually said very little, but seemed visibly excited by what Lucy had to say.
"Let me start by saying this," she said, "you'll not speak unless asked a question or given permission to speak freely."
Kneeling beside the table, I nodded to her and kept my chin high and eyes lowered as she spoke.
"I knew you were special from the moment I saw you Alex," she began, "That first day in the lunchroom. When I walked in I'd practically made my entire lunch and sat down before you took your eyes off of my sandals."
She'd noticed. I'd thought for sure that my fetish for good shoes was inconspicuous. Perhaps it was, but to the well trained eye, such as Lucy's, I guess I had very little chance of fooling her.
"It occurred to me Alex that you were submissive so I subjected you to a few tests. A few tests that many men, even self proclaiming submissives have seemed to fail. The little bit with the napkin falling on the ground, most men pick up on for sure, however doing my dishes after each lunch break was a detail that most men stumble on."
I looked her directly in the eyes. How on earth did she know I was doing her lunch dishes? I could clearly hear her heels trail off down the hall everyday, before I even got started with that task. I had a bewildered look on my face.
"How I knew?", she began, almost reading my mind, "I suppose telling you this now will be of no consequence. The firm we work for belongs to my Father. He is getting on in age and really takes on a more consultative role nowadays, to which he has left me in charge of it's welfare. Someone in my high position as you can expect, has many resources available to them. Resources such as the security video tapes that are shot in the lunchroom. Yes, Alex, I saw your commitment to my happiness everyday at lunch, and I also know you were lying when you said you were feeling a little under the weather that day my tea cup went missing. I knew you were struggling inside emotionally on a level that only someone like you, or I, or even Kelvin and anne could understand. You were visibly shaken my dear boy."
My little secret was out. All those days that had gone by, me doing Lucy's dishes, stealing looks at her shoes, was out in the open, and realized.
"Who do you think misplaced that cup in the first place?" she said with a sly grin, "But with flying colours you passed that little test as well boy. Not only that, you managed to take it a step further and show up for lunch early everyday after that, to make sure undoubtedly that the cup did not go missing again. It was a step that admittedly, even I was not expecting of you. I knew at that point dear Alex that I had to have you as mine."
My mind was mush, but my feelings for Lucy were so strong, and I was so proud. The fact that I was a full grown adult man, being made to kneel at the dinner table while we ate, was of little consequence to me. I was simply floating on a cloud and absolutely exasperated to be there. After dinner with Lucy's blessing, I jumped up with anne to clear the dishes and make some coffee. It was amazing to finally know my place. I wasn't clumsy in trying to find a reason to help anne this time. Now of course it was expected of me. Before serving coffee Lucy turned to me and said,
"Did you remember to bring along something?"
"Oh yes Ma'am, please forgive me, it's still in the car. I must have been..."
"I didn't ask for an explanation boy," she cut me short, "out you go and get it."
As I walked to the car I thought to myself how easily "Ma'am" had rolled off my tongue, and how nice it was to hear Lucy refer to me as "boy". Honestly it's something I've always dreamed of, sitting late nights in front of my computer surfing for smut, but always seem to far fetched or fantasy-like to actually come true. Returning to the house I placed the bottle in front of Lucy and noticed that my chair had been placed back at the table.
"You may sit boy," she said.
I sat down and hoped that she approved. Looking at the bottle a large smile came over her face.
"Ahhhh, "she beamed, looking at the leather rose that had been tied to it, " my sweet darling Frankie. It's a fine thing that I had him looking out for you my dear boy. As much as I like to be in control of things, the weather certainly isn't one of them. I was prepared to see you kneeling in front of me explaining that you couldn't find this brand, or that the inclement rain had prevented you from getting it."
My jaw dropped. I suppose at this point, it shouldn't have surprised me to find out that she knew I'd only find Frangelico at Frank's place in Bradley Harbour, but it did. I was equally surprised to learn that the week she'd spent away from work, was to attend a D/s workshop, which was conveniently put on by Kelvin. Simply amazed I stared upon her, as she poured us all an after dinner aperitif. This woman is more than anything I could possibly imagine, and her control over me, physically and emotionally, had started from the very first day I met her. Even more amazing was the fact she had been completely aware of what she was doing to me the whole time. For certain, for the first time in my life, I was falling in love.
Chapter 6
A year has passed since that day, and other than her complete control over me, and my devotion to her, a lot has changed. I'm now a permanent employee of the firm, and a full time companion and slave of Lucy's. We are an extremely happy couple. My mornings are spent at the office as Lucy's assistant, and my afternoons are spent at home, preparing for her arrival home from work. It's my job to anticipate her needs on a domestic level, as well as a professional level. We compliment each other emotionally like very few couples do. From the outside looking in, vanilla people see a happy couple, enjoying each others company in a genuine and loving fashion. However behind closed doors, there's a well rehearsed protocol that engulfs all things D/s. We are soul mates, and although she loves to hear my opinion on daily issues, ultimately she will always have the final say. Quite frankly, that is the only rule I must obey, as all expectation of me will stem from that simple instruction.
We still do have a very good relationship with Kelvin and anne and visit them frequently. I don't attend munches at the Heuther any longer but our closest friends that we spend the most time with are hardwired lifestyle people.
As for me, I'm happy beyond belief. It never occurred to me that I could ever be so emotionally complete. My monster within is no longer a monster I hide, but a part of me that Lucy loves to see, and needs to be happy herself. And so, with our first year almost behind us, I took it upon myself to find her an anniversary present. Something that she could always remember this special moment by.
One evening, while we subs were preparing dinner, at a regular get together with kinky friends, a Domme brought with her a catalog that contained all kinds of D/s niceties. Among the many beautiful things this catalog contained, was a simple black leather corset that caught Lucy's eye. After dinner, kneeling at Lucy's feet in a lounge area, she pointed it out to me in a casual manner, asking what I thought of it. Of course I loved it, and I knew the exact pair of sandals that would set the whole thing off.
"My boy you certainly have a passion for my shoes," she said crossing her legs and placing her feet to rest in my lap.
Immediately after dinner, I set the plan in motion. Anne and Lucy's measurements were exactly the same, so much the same in fact, that they constantly bantered back and forth about borrowing and returning each other's clothes. Confirming that I would be able to receive this corset before our anniversary I placed the order and grinned from ear to ear knowing Lucy would love it. As the weeks went by, our anniversary was only two days away. Panicked, I called the manufacturer to find out where the corset was. The man on the other end of the phone explained to me that my order had already been shipped, and that I should have received it by now. I was a mess. I called anne and explained my situation but she had no suggestions for me. What would I do? I had already purchased and wrapped the sandals to go with the corset; I badly wanted this to be so perfect for her. I felt sick to my stomach, much the same way I did that day I couldn't find Lucy's tea cup in the lunch room a year ago.
The following day, a Friday, I arrived home battered from the thought of not having the corset in time. I checked the mailbox with fingers crossed, but alas, it was empty. My heart sank to my knees. I went on with my day, preparing for Lucy's arrival, but devastated that my plan had not worked. When she finally came in the door, she didn't find me kneeling at the door to greet her, but saw me pleading to someone on the phone for an explanation. I was on the phone with FedEx, using words that a proper submissive man wouldn't normally say. With no further explanation and no corset in my possession, I slammed the phone down on it's cradle.
"Who was that you were on the phone with boy?" I heard her say.
Startled to no end I turned to her and said, "Ah, nobody Ma'am."
She looked at me sternly. It was at this moment that I realized two things. One, that after a whole year of obedience, for the first time, I was not in my proper place to greet Lucy when she came through the door, and two, that I couldn't tell her who was on the phone without ruining the surprise.
"That certainly didn't sound like nobody," she said with an escalating annoyed tone.
I was speechless. I watched, as her face became very irritated, and her eyes darted back and forth from and to each of mine. The deathly loud silence was broken by a single finger snap. A queue that I had learned so well.
Instantly, I dropped to my knees. With feet together I bent at the waist and placed my forehead on the floor only inches from her feet. Resting my elbows on either side of my head, I clasped my hands behind my head, and remained silent.
"Not only were you not in place when I arrived home," she began with a stern voice as she paced around my humbled position, "you've deliberately hurt my feelings by lying right to my face. I expect shortcomings from you my dear boy, and have used punishment as a means to correct them, but lying is not a shortcoming. It's occurred to me at this instant that perhaps you just may not be the man for me"
"PLEASE MA'AM!" I hysterically cried, "let me explain…"
"I'LL HAVE NONE OF IT!" She shouted cutting me off.
With head hard pressed on the floor, emotion overcame me, and I began to weep. My state was so pitiful, that I hadn't heard her leave the room and return. Straddling my back, she pulled my head back with a fist full of hair. I was defeated. I felt her buckle the ring gag head harness on. My silence was certain.
So here I find myself. Feeling shame and guilt, fettered for punishment on the floor of her closet. I've no idea how long I have been here, or how long I will remain. Perhaps I'll get a chance to explain at the very least, or at the very worst, she may even release me as her slave. What started out as good intention could very well be the act that ruins my relationship with a woman that I'll never find a replacement for. She is the only one who will hold my heart in this way. What have I done?
Jarred, I awake when I hear the opening of the closet door. It is dark and I had no account of how long I'd been there, I suspect night had fallen. My knees burned and my jaw ached but not near as much as my heart cried for a moment to explain myself. Her hands reached in and released the short chain holding my collar to the floor, as well as the strap that held the top of my head back in such a severe manner. The spreader bar was also removed giving me a chance to change my position and stretch my limbs which had been held in the same spot for hours. The gag however was left on, and my humiliating drool continued to flow. I was disappointed that she had not removed it, as I was literally chomping at the bit to tell her why I had done such things and disappointed her.
Not being able to see in the dark room, I felt the strap around my scrotum tighten as she pulled it forward, urging me out of the closet on my knees. I was guided to the middle of the room at the side of her bed.
"Not a word boy, not a single word," she said as I felt her reach for the lock that held the head harness on and the ring gag in.
As it popped from my mouth, I worked my jaw to regain some feeling. Just to be able to swallow my spit was somewhat of a new thing for me. My arms burned and I was shaking feverously.
"Now," she said, "look up at me and listen carefully what I have to say because I've been thinking very hard."
I looked up into the darkness and I knew what she was going to say. I felt shredded. After all this time and with good intentions, she's going to release me. What will I do? Just then, I heard the click of a light and there she stood before me, wearing the corset I had ordered, the sandals to match, and nothing more. My mind was a mass of short circuits as I kneeled there with my jaw wide open.
"You're thoughtfulness far exceeds anything I could possibly imagine my dear boy. I love this corset as much as you love these shoes. To see you so tormented these last couple of days has been an exquisite sight for me and one I'm glad I didn't pass up. I knew you'd be hurt, but it's raw emotion such as this that makes me very proud and blessed to have you. I love you very much." She said
I smiled and relief washed over me like a tidal wave in a hurricane. She'd pulled my emotional strings again, strings that she always will have complete control of. It's amazing to me the amount of control she does have. Not only did she own me, but she owned my mind and its exercises like this she'd use to remind me of it.
"Happy anniversary Ma'am," I said, "I love you more than anything, you make me proud to be yours."
With that, she laid back on her bed, stretched out with legs bent, the heels of her shoes pressing into the mattress. I watched as her body writhed inside the confines of her new corset, and her hands traced its edges. Indeed she was happy, as was I. In an almost dreamy like state, she turned to look at me kneeling beside her bed, and pointed to her pussy.
"HERE!" she said sternly.
Grinning like the proudest boy on earth, I knew exactly what she expected of me and I was all too happy to oblige.
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