She is standing in the middle of the room, in a long skirt and tight, enclosing bodice. Her skin is pale, so pale. She seems so small I could break her with a finger, but I know this one of old. Hard as nails and stubborn with it.
And today I'm going to make her scream for me.
"Stay here," I tell her. "If you move an inch I'm going to send you straight home."
She nods, eyes on the thick red carpet, but I can see the twinkle from here. She's loving it. She wouldn't move if there was an earthquake.
I stalk out of the room. In the antechamber I swiftly change from my robe into a smooth, black satin corset and a long, full satin skirt of deep, shimmering blackish red, with neat, heeled black leather knee-boots underneath. I wear a simple black ribbon choker and twist my thick hair into an effortless chignon, scenting it with jasmine and ginger. Finally, I pull on a pair of elbow-length black silk gloves.
I pick up my bag and stride out into the room where she is. She's shocked. She's never seen me like this, so impassive and in control. I cross the room, feeling her admiring, and now slightly frighted eyes on me. I sense the power creeping over me as she involuntarily begins to put herself into my hands.
Taking a seat in a high-backed red and gold chair, I sit stiffly. From the bag next to me I pull out a beautiful black crop, and note with satisfaction how her eyes widen. She licks her lips, nervously.
"Strip for me."
Her eyes flash at me, obviously surprised.
"And mind you're slow about it. If you do it wrong, you will get five strokes and be sent home. Do it right...and you will get ten strokes and a reward."
"Yes, Mistress."
I smirk briefly as she bends to take off her shoes, revealing fine-boned feet and slim ankles.
I tap the crop irritably in my hand.
"Slower!"
"Yes, Mistress."
With painful slowness her hands move to her waist, unfastening her skirt. The silk slides, gently, ravishingly over her hips and thighs as she slips it off. Next she reaches for a stocking. Slowly, slowly, she slides it down, and as she comes up with it in her hand I reach out, lighting-fast with the crop, and hook it from her.
"Pretty. That will come in useful."
Puzzled now, she reaches to pull off her other stocking. Instead of standing up this time, she kneels and offers me the stocking across her open palms.
"Forward, aren't you, lady..."
I lash out with the crop again, dashing the stocking from her hand and hearing a hiss of pain as I catch her hard across the palm.
"Carry on."
She unfastens her garter belt and lets it drop. My gaze travels up her, from her perfect feet up her creamy legs to her tight, lacy knickers. I stare openly at her until I see her twitch...nerves, or lust, doesn't matter. She's bothered now, and that's what counts.
"Take them off."
She hooks her fingers into the knickers and pulls them off...good girl, taking it slowly. I catch a glimpse of her sweet breasts underneath the bodice as she bends over, and guess the existance of nipple rings. Which gives me an idea.
I stand in a rustle of skirts and stride over to her, the stocking in my hand.
"Fair."
I wrap the stocking around her eyes, breathing the scent of her, so rich and tainted with fear. She cannot see anything now, but I know she will be
straining for every sound. Carefully I remove a pair of handcuffs with chains attached from my bag, and snap them around her wrists in front of her in the prayer position. Her breath is coming faster now. She knows she's in for pain, whether she's been good or not. And I'm not telling.
I take a pair of leather cuffs from the bag this time, with heavy D-rings attatched to them. They clink softly as I lay them on the low table next to me. I take the crop up again and run the very edge of it down the inside of her right thigh, brushing the hairs at her cunt at the start, making her gasp quietly. When I reach her ankle I reach down and snap a cuff around it. I repeat the process on her left leg.
Now she's starting to realise just how pinioned she could be. This is new to her. Slight as she is, she's as strong as I and it's only by pure force of will that she's standing perfectly still and giving herself to me. But she hasn't seen - or felt - anything yet.
From the bag I take a pair of long coils of narrow satin ribbon, tucking them into my corset. Putting down the crop briefly, I run a silken finger across her cheek and down her neck, running across the top of her exquisite breasts.
