I mumbled incoherently as I was jolted out of early morning slumber. The rattling of the letterbox awoke me first, followed by scattered 'thuds' that hit the hallway floor. I glanced over at the clock. "Jesus, it's the first day of the holiday. Its six forty five…." I wearily muttered, pulling the cool crisp sheet over me. I continued to lie there, hoping to get back to sleep. Five minutes went by, then ten. Curiosity got the better of me as the red digits on the clock flipped over to seven o'clock.
I tiptoed down the stairs, not wanting to wake my daughter up. Strewn untidily on the mat were four small boxes with annoying junk mail and other post nestled between them. I scooped up the light grey parcels and the rest of the letters and leaflets and headed for the kitchen. I dropped everything on the pine dining table and made myself some tea before making my way through the posted debris.
I placed the small packages to the side and sifted through the leaflets selling car, house and travel insurance. Tucked neatly between two of them I discovered a pale grey envelope, closely matching the same colour as the parcels. The handwriting was extremely familiar and any doubts I had of who the sender was were pushed to the back of my thoughts as I read, "Ms Leoni."
Only one person called me that and I soon began to shake with excitement, or was it fear? Too many times those two emotions have conflicted, but nearly all the time the result is the same; every nerve ending becomes sensitive and alert. I sat myself down and studied the envelope and parcels. I ran my finger over the left hand corner of the envelope and skimmed over the boldly printed word, 'Priority'.
I fumbled with the envelope nervously and took a deep breath as I opened up the letter. It began with, "Ms Leoni, My little angel." A spine tingling feeling washed over me. I love it when she calls me that. My pussy quivered as I read down the page. It was an invitation to a party. In the letter she mentioned Nicole and Scarlet. I paused for a moment, thinking back to that day at the café. God, it's been nearly two months since I suffered that humiliation. I now recall that at the time she called it a function when she told Nicole about it. I assumed the invitation was just a passing gesture as there had been no mention of it, or a party since then. I felt a burning flush caress my skin, remembering that day on the floor of the café.
The more I read the letter the more it became apparent that this was no invitation. It was an order and I was required to be there. The party was to be on Saturday evening, but I was to go to her house, early afternoon on the Friday. She said that the tiny boxes were to remain unopened and that I was to bring them with me. In the meantime they were to remain in full view in my bedroom. At first I wondered why she had given them to me now, five days before the party, but soon realised that this was yet another challenge, to resist the temptation to open them.
I bundled the boxes together and took them upstairs and piled them neatly at the side of the stereo. I sat on my bed facing the boxes and began to read the letter again. I held it to my nose, smelling the soft floral scent of perfume that may have lingered on her wrist that glided over the paper as she wrote. I lightly brushed my lips across it, bonding myself with her.
****
The days that followed passed slowly and I hate to admit it but curiosity began to eat away at me more and more. It hadn't helped that I'd been here alone since yesterday. My daughter left to stay with her dad for the second part of her holiday. Having her here the last couple of days was a good distraction but now, even the threat of my Mistress' cane swiping across my cheeks is not becoming the deterrent it should be. With one day to go I continually hoped and prayed that my resistance wouldn't waiver.
It was now Friday morning and when I woke, my fingers were still on the 'M' that had fallen out of my cleavage and come to rest on my soft abundant bosom. After a hearty breakfast and a reviving shower, in which I had been ordered to lose the 'M' on my mound, I packed my case with the clothing she required. I gazed out of the bedroom window and saw another miserable autumn day. The sky was grey and a keen wind swept its way through the last of the rustic coloured leaves that had managed to hang on from the previous weeks gales and rain. I decided on wearing a long skirt and a thin v-neck sweater that fitted snugly over my ample assets.
Once dressed, I placed the small grey boxes into a larger box and took them and my case down to the car. I checked my hair in the mirror and made sure the 'M' sat proudly on the bottom of the 'v' of my sweater. With one look at the clock I made my way to my Mistress' magnificent abode. On the way through the countryside I remembered the extravagance of her house and the long stony driveway that sat between the lines of conifer trees, the echoing sounds of her footsteps as she walked over to me on the scrunching stones.
Before long I'd reached the gravelled private road. I took a deep breath and sluggishly trundled towards the iron gates, fully expecting them to open gracefully for me like they did the time before. I was a little disappointed that they remained shut. What I did notice this time though was a large 'M' that was centred on each gate. I smiled at that, thinking, 'she sure likes to leave her mark on her possessions'.
Heavy spots of rain appeared on the windscreen and I grimaced at the thought of standing in a shower talking into an intercom system that I noticed on the tall, circular pillar that stood a couple of metres away from me. The rain began to get harder and I bounded out of my Herald Vitesse and quickly ran to the pillar and pressed the button.
After a faint crackle, my Mistress' voice sounded. "Yes, Ms Leoni…"
'Yes,' is that all she is going to say I thought. She could obviously see me, as she knew I was here. Why the hell didn't she open the gates? "Marie, IT'S raining, can you OPEN the gates?" I said with a sudden abruptness.
"For someone who is begging to be let in my little slut, I would have thought that you would have addressed me properly and in an appropriate manner…"
I shrugged and knew I'd made a mistake. I looked over at the house and in the upper floor window, standing with a telephone receiver in her hand, my Mistress stood. My hair had now stuck to my skin and my nipples were protruding obscenely through my thin lilac sweater. My long skirt appeared to have no sway to it and it hung drably from my waist dripping droplets of rain to the ground.
I pressed the button again. "Mistress, please open the gates, its cold and I'm soaked!"
It was quiet for a while and another faint crackle came from the speaker box. "Strip!" I was about to slam my hand on the button to speak, when her voice bellowed from the tiny box. "STRIP!" I pulled my hand away from the box sharply. "I want to see you young lady. Stand in front of your car and remove your clothes."
I slowly stepped to the front of my car and removed my shoes and socks. I glanced up at the window and from that moment on I could not take my eyes off her. I lowered the zip on my skirt and let it pool at my feet. My legs were mottled with pink blotches caused by the chilly rain. My panties stuck to my damp skin as I tried to lower them. The lilac sweater had virtually moulded itself to me and was hard to remove. Finally I removed my bra and my mammoth breasts were released. Despite how cold I was, the pattering of the large heavy droplets felt extremely sensual on my hard nipples. I stood in the puddle of clothes with only her necklace hanging from me.
She stood at the window a little while longer and I saw her bring the receiver to her face. "I want half of you on one gate and half on the other. Do you understand my little slut? Get on your knees if you do!" I lowered to my knees and winced at the pain as the small stones embedded themselves into my skin. "Good girl, now crawl to the gates." I crawled slowly and unevenly to the gates, the gravel now implanting itself into my knees, shins, feet and my hands. "Now stand on the lower railing of the gates." I stood and glanced at the indentations in my skin, in a few places I was bleeding. I placed my left foot on the left gate and did the same to the other gate with my right foot. "And your hands Ms Leoni!" I was now across the two gates.
She had now let go of the receiver and she stood there looking at me for what seemed like ages. The rain continued to fall and I was pretty thankful that it wasn't summer. The thought of me hanging on an iron gate in a thunderstorm is not an image I want to envisage.
My Mistress backed away from the window and seconds later she appeared through the front door. She briskly walked towards me, holding an umbrella in one hand and a large black holdall in the other. I felt embarrassed standing naked, on her wrought iron gates, in her driveway with my nipples rock hard. It was thoroughly humiliating and I cringed at the thought of someone driving towards her house and seeing a naked woman in this position!
Mistress stepped to me and placed the holdall on the wet ground. Her hand came through the iron intricacy of one of the gates and her finger graced my pimpled skin. "Someone's a little cold and wet aren't they?"
I lowered my head and shivered as I spoke. "Yes, Mistress."
"I'll warm you up my dear little angel." She said with a smile that dripped with evilness. Mistress closed her umbrella and dropped it beside the holdall then unzipped it quickly and pulled out two black cuffs that each had a chain coming off them. The chain was only about four or five inches long and had a metal fastener on the end, similar to what a climber has on their ropes. She came towards me and not once made eye contact with me. She then wrapped the cuffs around each of my wrists and fastened the clips to a railing on the gate. When the restraints were attached she returned to the holdall and retrieved two more and attached those to my ankles. I was now at her mercy with confusion and fear running through me. I rattled the chains in desperation.
She walked to the opposite pillar and reached up to a little box, similar to the one on my side of the gates. A low 'humming' began to sound and the gates slightly vibrated. In a split second I could feel my body spreading out. I looked up at her. "Mistress, NO, please…" I held on tightly to the rails and was soon stretched out completely between the two gates, suspended a foot or so above the ground.
"You didn't address me properly, so you will be punished. I love your flippancy and attitude, but sometimes I'm in no mood for it young lady. Do you understand?"
"Yes Mistress, it won't happen again." I meekly replied.
"I know it will my little slut and that's why you're mine!" She grinned and then winked at me.
The rain continually cascaded over me. Tiny rivers flowed down my back and crept between my bum cheeks and dripped helplessly from my pussy to the stones below. It spread over me, down the slopes and curves of my body. Tear shaped drops built up on my nipples and hung there for a millisecond before dropping vulnerably to the uneven surface that will inevitably shatter them apart.
Mistress walked to me and brushed her fingers down my cheek. The softness of her touch was reassuring. She interrupted the pattern of the watery flows as she glided her hand across my breasts. I moaned at every touch she laid on me. She cupped and held them as if she were weighing them. Her thumbs pressed into my nipples and I jolted at how sensitive they had become. Her lips came close to mine, teasingly close and then they touched me, soft lips that evoked a groan from me.
In a whisper, her voice crept into me, piercing me to my core. "This won't take long my little angel!" I nodded submissively as she pulled away. She retreated back to the holdall and pulled out a flogger. It looked frightening. A long handle with countless black leather tresses and in the breeze they seemed to dance like snakes, worshipping their goddess. She'd never used this on me before and I had only ever seen them in books and videos that she had sat down with me and watched; all part of my continued training. The images on paper or on a screen were certainly no match for what was swaying in front of me.
She stood about five feet away from me in the pouring rain. We looked at each other intently until I broke the stare. She twisted her wrist in slow rotations causing the long strands to gel together. Faster her arm moved and the tips of the tresses kissed my breasts. I gasped as the pointed ends caught my nipples, the wetness on my skin already making a good slapping sound as the leather kissed me.
