It might seem like a bizarre question now but at the time it seemed like a particularly relevant one. I lay there wondering "How the hell did Mistress produce so much urine?" I know that that might seem like a random thought but, frankly, it was the only thing currently taking my mind off the painful throbbing and pulsing sensation that accompanied the uncomfortable stretching coming from my ass and from my cock.
Normally our sessions were well planned and well organised. Well, I mean that normally I'd be involved in the planning and organising. Mistress generally liked to arrive for a session about an hour after she said to me that she would. That in itself had never been any surprise. She often liked to have me prepare myself and then sit ready waiting for her, collared, cuffed or in a specific position. She'd arrive in her own good time and then would spend a fair amount of time preparing herself for the session. I loved the times when I could hear her moving around the house, showering, drying her hair or working on make up while I sat there patiently waiting her mercies. I say 'hear' because in these situations I'd almost always be on my knees, trapped in some self-bondage and blindfolded. Mistress was a fan of anticipation, frustration and what she called 'predicament bondage'. When she was ready I'd feel her gentle initial touches, smell her exquisite perfume and shiver as her sweet breath and gentle lips delicately found my skin. Sessions would generally start gently and work to a crescendo of desperation and passion. I was, in fact, quite used to being 'trapped' in some way waiting for her to turn her attentions to me. The anticipation, the frustration and the eventual relief were electric.
Today was rather different.
Mistress had decided that we would meet at a small country pub we'd been to more than a few times before. There was nothing unusual in a 'vanilla' meeting. We often arranged to meet to discuss ideas or to talk about our normal lives. I'd been organised in good time as usual and set off for the pub. I always preferred to be there before Mistress arrived. Normally I'd cut across the countryside in the car rather than taking the main road. It was a slightly longer route via the back roads but it was far prettier and it was a lovely night for a drive. About three or four miles from the pub, still on the back road I came across a diversion sign indicating a small dark lane that I'd never noticed before. It looked as if the road ahead had been closed and there was no way to get to the pub using the normal route. Faced with the long drive back to the house followed by the drive via the main road I guessed that I'd be late and that Mistress would arrive before me. Now, vanilla evening or not, keeping Mistress waiting was not something I relished.
Turning to the left I took the previously unseen turning off the road and headed up the dark tree lined lane. The dark lane narrowed after a few minutes to a single track and then onwards up the hill through a tunnel of trees before it came to a complete dead end. Sure, there was a footpath leading off to the left and to the right and, some way off, a small ruined building joined the footpath back to the road but there was no way to carry on in a car from here. Swearing loudly, having wasted precious time, I hastily turned the car on the path and after what seemed like a twenty point turn faced the car in the opposite direction and started driving back down toward the main road. After a few turns and twists in the track, I was within a screams reach of the main road and, to my dismay, realised that the path ahead was almost completely blocked by a car. Trying to drive round it, I took my car off the path slightly and inched alongside. Just as I drew parallel with the other car Mistress stepped out from behind it and raised her hand to stop me.
Mistress was always stunning. This particular evening she was dressed in her long black leather coat. Her dark auburn hair, curled and fell across her shoulders down the back of her coat. She wore a simple white blouse and a pair of leather trousers, topped beautifully by her goth-style buckled knee high boots. She smiled, her beautiful ruby lips instantly filling me with desire and with the urge to kneel at her feet and gaze in devotion up into her dark dark eyes. I must have been sitting for some moments just basking in her tall, stylish and confident beauty as I was startled when she knocked on the window of the car. Rolling down the window, I looked up at her standing smiling at me in her "Oh, you have no idea" way. She spoke only three words before she locked me in the boot of her car, 'Out, Slave' and 'Strip'.
I wasn't in the boot of her car all that long but the cold steel of the diversion sign sharing the space reminded me that she had a wickedly devious sense of fun. I didn't even know she owned a car, the fact that she was a bike had always appealed to me. Within moments of stopping at her improvised check point I had been placed into leather wrist and ankle cuffs, these were padlocked together and my locking collar was firmly fastened around my neck. Just before the lid of the boot was closed the rubber ball gag that she loved me to wear and matching rubber blindfold were secured tightly in place. There was a click as the boot slammed shut.
Wherever she'd taken me, the session that followed, the four hours of exquisite erotic torture was the stuff of every single fantasy I'd ever had...
The session had come to an end with her bringing herself to screaming orgasm over my face, she drenched me with her orgasm and I lay there exhausted and dripping, her scent driving me wild with unfulfilled desire as she said, "you can let yourself out..." I didn't like the low predatory laugh that accompanied that instruction. Mistress knew that screaming and shouting were an instant turn off for me. I was slightly deaf after years of aural abuse and a softly spoken word, a whisper and a subtle laugh were sexy and powerful in my mind. I heard the door close and the sound of her boots striding off down the corridor. Some moments later a car engine fired up and I heard the sound of a gravel drive crunching as she drove away. Mistress loved walking in the way and with that distinctive sound that she knew had drawn me to her in the first place. She used to stride around the University Faculty building where we both worked and she knew that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from staring as she passed me by. I was a mere researcher she was practically management, Academic Affairs Officer, now there was subtle irony in that title.
