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The rain fell
in blinding sheets as I drove through the water-darkened streets of Seattle.
The sky was black, the dark thunderclouds obscuring the waning light of the
early winter evening. A flash of lightning lit the sky, momentarily
illuminating the street in eerie brightness. The wipers on my cruiser
slapped out a constant rhythm, lulling my senses.
A small car skidded through a stop
sign in front of me; the rain soaked streets playing havoc on the cars
brakes. I turned on the siren, the wail sounding loud on the quiet street. I
had no desire to give the driver of the car a ticket, just a warning to be
more careful. I turned left to follow the car, my lights flashing off the
buildings that lined the empty street.
Splashing through a puddle, the water
kicking up a spray that covered my windshield I slammed on my brakes and
lightly tapped the bumper of the car that I had decided to pull.
"Shit," I muttered, fearing the damage to my cruiser and the other
vehicle. Thoughts of lawsuits danced in my head, as well as the fear of
loosing my job if a lawsuit did, indeed, come of the minor accident.
I exited the car, the rain falling on
my head, matting my hair. My police uniform was drenched as the water fell,
making it look darker than it really was. I looked at our two vehicles,
touching like a chaste kiss. I approached the car, and was surprised to see
an attractive, dark-haired woman smiling at me. Her words, when she spoke,
hinted at an underlying power. Her words were direct; "you are
mine."
I tried to play off the accident,
explaining that she needed to be more careful when driving on such
rain-slicked streets. I volunteered that I needed to heed my own advice, and
to lower my speed as well.
She shook her head, "no. You are
mine."
I swallowed heavily as I listened to
her explain things, "as she saw them."
"Look, if you don’t want me to
report you, then you will come to my house tonight where I can," she
paused to draw out the next word, "punish you for hitting my car."
My fears of unemployment danced in my
head, not that causing an accident was grounds for immediate dismissal. My
mind tossed as I pondered the possibilities. Finally I submitted, hanging my
head, "where do you live?"
She smiled, flashing her white teeth
in a grin of acceptance, "Mistress. Say it."
With my head hung in shame I repeated
my sentence, "where do you live, Mistress?"
She opened her purse and pulled out a
business card and pen. She wrote on the back of the small card. "Here
is my address. Be there tonight at eight." She looked at me briefly and
continued, "and do wear the uniform."
Surprisingly I thanked her for her
time and returned to my squad car, her business card gripped tightly between
my rain-soaked fingers.
*****
At eight that evening I pulled into
her driveway. She lived in a rural community; her closest neighbor almost
two hundred yards away. The yard was well maintained, manicured and neatly
mowed. The hedges were trimmed cleanly and rows of flowers lined the yard
under the windows. I noticed lights shining in the house and with a deep
breath I approached the door.
I knocked loudly. The lovely woman
whose car I had lightly tapped answered, smiling broadly. "Welcome,
please come in."
I crossed the threshold, my feet
sliding forward nervously. I introduced my self and she shook my hand. I
felt out of place, standing in my uniform in her home.
"Dennis," she said,
"you will call me Mistress Laura. You will be punished for causing the
little accident. You do believe that people who misbehave should be punished
don’t you?"
Of course she had me. As a police
officer that is what I did, punish criminals. "Yes, Mistress Laura,"
I replied, the words sounding strange on my tongue.
She pointed me to the kitchen and
informed me that she had pulled out dinner and that I was to prepare it.
When I had it going, she informed me, I would meet her in the living room
with a cup of Earl Grey Tea with milk as the weather was a little cool. The
rain continued to fall, echoing off the shingles of the house.
I entered the kitchen and began
preparing dinner. I set up the egg wash and began frying the chicken she had
left out. I cut the potatoes we needed for the mashed potatoes, and set up a
pan of green beans simmering in a thin butter sauce. With dinner cooking I
prepared a cup of tea, adding a dollop of fresh milk, the liquid turning
white. It seemed odd to be cooking still wearing my policeman’s uniform,
my baton striking my thigh, my radio squawking quietly.
I entered the living room; crossing to
where Laura was reading a book, her legs curled up under her thighs.
"Your tea, Mistress Laura,"
I said, offering her the cup of steaming liquid. The tea smelled
wonderful, the scent wafting into the air.
She pointed to the floor, and I sank
slowly to my knees, holding the cup steady to prevent from burning my hands.
Again I offered her the cup of steaming liquid, "Mistress."
"Thank you," she replied,
taking the cup from my hand. She took a sip, slurping noisily. "Very
good."
I stood quietly, not knowing what to
do, or what to expect. My stomach flopped nervously. I felt out of place,
unsure of myself or what to expect. Mistress Laura was wearing a soft, white
terry cloth robe, and I stood out of place in my uniform. With a nervous
glance I rose to my feet, excused myself, and returned to the kitchen.
I finished cooking the meal, setting
everything up on the dining room table. I set two places, and then made a
fresh cup of tea. With the table prepared I returned to the living room
where Mistress Laura was still reading to inform her it was time to eat.
We walked to the dining room and ate
the meal in silence. I was unsure what to expect, but I felt the silence was
intentional, to keep me guessing. My stomach continued its silent protest,
twisting nervously. I was frightened of this woman, of what to expect.
With dinner done she told me to do the
dishes.
I completed cleaning the kitchen and
dining room, washing the dishes by hand. I wiped the counters and then swept
the floor. I gave the room a once over before returning to the living room
to receive further commands. I was surprised to see Laura descending the
staircase instead of reading.
"Dennis," she said walking
up to me, "you did a very bad thing running into my car. Didn’t
you?"
I blushed, my head held in shame,
"yes, Mistress Laura."
She smiled at my submissive tone.
"You need to be punished for your actions. I have just laid out a few
paddles and belts. Please go upstairs, the first room on your left. Pick out
what you want me to use on your ass. I will be up in a few minutes."
I repeated my early words, "yes, Mistress Laura."
I walked slowly up the stairs like a
prisoner to his execution. I turned into the master bedroom. There were
three leather belts and two paddles sitting on the bed. All of them looked
menacing in their inactivity. I counted them all.
The first was a thick leather belt
with empty holes adorned with gold rings. The rings would leave stinging
welts and the holes would not offer any resistance as the belt swung through
the air towards my ass.
I swallowed as I realized I was here
picking the instrument of torture to use on my own body. My chest tightened
as I continued running my mind in crazy circles over which belt of paddle to
use.
The second belt was a very thin strip
of leather. As with the first belt I imagined the sting of the strap as it
stung my unprotected ass. Unprotected? She had not said it would be on my
naked body, but I knew it would be. As I knew that no matter what instrument
I choose, the sting would be amazing.
The third was a very wide belt with
studs riveted to it. The studs protruded about a quarter of an inch, and I
immediately ruled it out. The studs would lacerate my skin, and I did not
want to feel it. I giggled nervously, like I wanted to feel all of them.
Next on the bed was a simple Ping-Pong
paddle. Both sides of the large wooden paddle were coated with a thick
rubber surface. I envisioned the rubber striking my ass and burning
painfully.
The last implement was a standard
wooden paddle with holes drilled in it. Again the holes would help the
paddle soar through the air and strike my ass with extreme force. I
shuddered at the thought of the sting that paddle would deliver.
Which one would sting the less? I
could not imagine picking any of them, yet I had to choose the one I wanted Laura
to use on me. Which one? None of them, please, I whimpered silently. I was
afraid to pick one, knowing that no matter which paddle or belt I picked,
one of the other’s would sting less.
I couldn’t pick.
I had to.
It was torment to imagine the sting of
every belt and paddle on the bed as I awaited Laura’s return. The thin
belt and its deadly sting or the paddle with its rubber skin? No easy
choice. I fretted over the choice; my imagination feeding my fear of the
beating I was to receive.
I heard Laura walking up the stairs. I
looked at the line of paddles and belts, trying to decide. Needing to decide
before the door opened.
Laura enter the room. She looked at my
haggard face, at the furrowed lines the debate that had been raging in my
mind had caused. She smiled at me, "strip."
Here it comes, I panicked. "Yes, Mistress Laura." I doffed my utility belt, setting it alongside the
paddles. I kicked off my shoes and unfastened my belt. In one deft motion I
pulled off my pants and underwear. I kicked them into a heap at my feet.
Slowly, as if to delay the inevitable, I unbuttoned my shirt. Pulling it
apart I dropped it at my feet. I turned to stand naked before the still robe
clad Mistress Laura.
She smiled at my nervousness.
"Hand me your handcuffs," she commanded.
I bent and retrieved the cuffs from my
belt and handed them to her.
She made as spinning motion with her
finger, beckoning me to turn around.
I turned my back to her, offering her
my wrists to fasten them behind my back. The ratcheting was loud in the neat
room. She cuffed my hands tightly, and my wrists hung uselessly behind my
back.
"You know," she began,
"I decided not to spank you. Instead I want to fuck you."
I had spent almost forty-five minutes
deliberating the sting and burn of each of the paddles and belts, tormenting
myself with the thoughts of the upcoming pain and she has opted not to do
it. I had to wonder if it was better not to get it, imagining the pain, or
get it over with, the pain ultimately fading. I squawked a weak, "thank
you, mistress."
With a smile she asked me to open the
drawer in the nightstand next to the bed and hand her the tube of KY jelly
that would be found there.
I opened the drawer and gave her what
she wanted. She picked up my baton and began coating the wood with the
lubricating jelly. "Bend over and place your hands on the bed,"
she commanded me.
I bent forward, bracing myself with my
locked arms.
Mistress Laura proceeded to ease my
baton into my ass. She was gentle, slowly working the wooden baton past the
puckered sphincter until it slid in painlessly. "Hold that," she
hissed through clenched teeth.
She released the baton and crossed the
room. Moments later she returned, a large dildo dancing from the leather
strap attached to her hips. She had doffed her robe and her naked breasts
heaved excitedly. She came up behind me and pulled the baton from my
clenched ass, replacing it with her artificial cock.
She sank the dildo into my ass and I
grunted as she forcefully pounded the invader deeply into my bowels. She
took her pleasure, fucking my ass with abandon, driving the cock deep into
my body. She pulled out slowly, and then thrust back in with amazing force.
Over and over she repeated this, taking my ass, fucking me hard.
She continued to rock against my body,
the flat base of the dildo massaging her sex. Each time she pushed against
me, the dildo sent a stab of pleasure through her body. She continued to
pound me, each inward stroke coming harder as she pleasured her sex with the
base of the dildo.
She screamed loudly as an orgasm shook
through her body. The pleasure of the cock rubbing against her pussy and the
dominating thrill of fucking a man finally pushing her over the edge of
orgasmic bliss.
She pulled the dildo from my ass.
"I enjoyed that," she breathed, her breasts heaving.
My cock bobbed as I stared at her
naked body and at the dildo hanging from her hips. Did I enjoy that? I
pondered. I found that I did enjoy giving up the control, and the feelings
of the dildo slipping into my anus were not unpleasing. "I enjoyed it
too, Mistress Laura," I admitted. The fear I had felt earlier over
deciding over which paddle to be used on my ass had faded, replaced by warm
feeling of yielding control.
I glanced around the room. I looked at
the belts and paddles still sitting proudly on the bed. I looked at my
discarded clothes sitting in a pile on the floor. I looked at the feminine
décor and at the lovely woman wearing the artificial cock. Yes, I reasoned,
I did indeed enjoy myself. Everything had turned out okay.
"Good," she smiled,
"then tomorrow we will do it again." |