A sadist is a person who enjoys, and gets sexual gratification, from inflicting pain on someone else and a masochist is a person who has the same feelings from having pain inflicted upon them.
She is a sadist and there are two completely different masochists in the story. They are well suited and their arrangement gives them all pleasure which is the point of an S/M relationship. Everything which takes place is consensual.
This is a work of fiction with no connection with reality and portrays a sadistic woman and her session with men who are masochists and who enjoy everything she puts them through and they wouldn't have it any other way.
If the theme is one you don't like please don't read any further.
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He parked his car in the same place as every other occasion and walked the two hundred yards to the premises of his mistress. It was a townhouse in the suburbs, divided into two self contained apartments and his mistress used the ground floor apartment.
As he got closer the adrenalin began pumping and he felt as though the anticipation was going to make him burst. He had never looked forward to anything more in his life than his visits to his mistress and the time for his monthly salary couldn't get paid into his bank quickly enough. Today was the day and the transfer to his mistress had been made. He reached his destination and stood before the front door of the house. He had arrived a couple of minutes early but he knew the door would not open until the time of the appointment and, sure enough, exactly on time he heard the electronic lock click and the door swung inwards.
He entered the hallway and stood by the basket that would shortly hold his clothing. He remained motionless until he heard the door close and lock behind him and the interior was plunged into blackness. He undressed in the darkness, placed all his clothing in the basket, and waited for the light to come on. He knew he had to remain motionless until the appropriate light came on.
The apartment has been completely changed from the original layout and consisted of four rooms each quite spacious. Three of them were a living room, kitchen and bathroom with each room containing items for the mistress to use during a session dependent on which room she decided to use. There was a fourth door leading to a basement. He knew the layout because his mistress had given him a tour of her premises on his first visit prior to their discussing his medical history and find out, if any, his previous experience of bdsm. She had wanted to know what his particular fetishes were and what he expected from his time with her, what he considered undesirable, his fantasies, and whether he wanted to be marked.
Above the door to each room was a light which gave out just enough illumination to see your way to that room without walking into anything but having visited each room he was confident that he could negotiate his way without the benefit of any light. He knew from past experience not to tell his mistress of his confidence because if he did she would no doubt set a trap for him. He had no doubt, from experience, it would be a very painful trap. Perhaps he should do it?
The fourth light came on. The one leading to the basement. This was his favourite. It led to the dungeon which was the best equipped part of the house. He paused at the top of the stairs and then began to descend. Three steps down and the staircase steps swivelled and became a chute down which he fell head over heels landing in a heap at the bottom with the wind knocked out of him. That hadn't happened before. It must be new. He lay there for a few seconds, the breath knocked from him by the fall, knowing he must not take too long before he started to crawl across the floor.
The lights in the dungeon were dimmed but he could still see his Mistress's throne. He crawled towards it as fast as he could knowing if he didn't he would suffer.
His Mistress was very much into technology and used it to suit whatever she wanted. The electronically operated door; the lights in the hall; the infra-red cctv cameras; and, as he had just discovered, the stairs that become a chute. She had several remote controls spread around together with controls on the walls and on some of the equipment. You didn't know what would happen in the same way as you didn't know which light will come on. Sometimes the lights go out as the submissive descended the stairs.
The dungeon was twenty feet wide and forty feet long, not quite the depth of the property, and and with an eight foot high ceiling. There was a polished wood floor and the walls were a mix of bare brickwork, full height mirrors, and burgundy velvet drapes. Around the edge of the room were several boxes similar in style to those you find at the end of a bed but smaller. These, and racks on sections of bare wall, contained the equipment Mistress needed to work her magic. Close by the stairs was a wet room, and in the centre of the room a padded horse and a bench. He had experienced being fastened to both of them in the past.
Then there was the throne, which would have been suitable for royalty, positioned in front of one of the side walls, in front of velvet drapes. The throne was facing away from him, he crawled towards it and then stopped on his knees with his head bowed. The dais the throne was set on revolved 180 degrees towards him. He heard the snap of her fingers. The signal he was allowed to lift his head.
He saw the toe, the sole, and the six inch spiked heels that were capable, as he knew from experience, of piercing skin and causing severe pain to all parts of the body.
Another snap of the fingers and he was allowed to lift his head a little higher to allow his gaze to see the whole of the shiny black leather knee high boots Mistress was wearing today and his eyes took in the laces that criss-crossed the front of the boots.
Mistress moved a foot towards his face and he knew what was expected. He started to lick around the toe and when she lifted her foot he licked the sole. When she lifted her foot up further he opened his mouth and she slipped the deadly heel between his lips. He sucked on it as though it was the most delicious thing that had ever been in his mouth. Which in a way it was.
He heard Mistress rise from her throne and stand before him, but he was still only allowed to see up to her knees. She walked behind him and then halted. He dare not move even though he knew something was going to happen.
A few second later her foot smashed into his balls. He had expected the crop or the paddle, or perhaps the flogger, and the impact of being kicked shocked him so much he fell forward. It was the wrong thing to do and, as he came back on his hands and knees, he knew it was going to happen again and would continue until he didn't fall. He gritted his teeth and stayed firm waiting for another kick. After what seemed an eternity her boot hammered into him but he remained firm.
The clicking of her heels as she walked away was music to his ears. Once again she snapped her fingers and he stood up. A second snap and he turned around.
She looked magnificent. She had a sensational figure and and stood six feet tall without her six inch heels. Long, lean legs and breasts that were just the right size. Not large but not small. Her wild, black hair hung down, over her shoulders, past her breasts. Her eyebrows were pencilled in to match her hair and today she was wearing purple eyeshadow.
