My Lady's Holy Trinity
By ShameNTame
"Stand there, undress and put your clothes in that basket."
I looked to where Lady was pointing - a black rubber mat on the floor, about 2m square, and a yellow rectangular laundry basket sat in the centre of it. I was taken by how absolutely central and parallel to the sides of the mat the basket was. This had been placed with meticulous precision. The message was clear.
Behind the mat and basket the wall was covered entirely in wooden shelving with a series of about a dozen alcoves each with its own laundry basket, except one. I assumed that is where I should return my basket once I had undressed.
The orderliness of the arrangements helped to keep me calm. As Lady turned and walked the length of the room, leaving through a door at the far end I listened to the sound of her heels on the hard wood floor, echoing around the large room devoid of any soft furnishings. This room had not been designed for comfort or relaxation.
Now as I scanned the room I could feel my heart beat begin to race. A large wooden X-frame, against the long side wall, was the most dominating contraption in the room.
In the centre of the room I saw chains, pulleys, hooks and straps hanging down, like vines in the rain forest.
Beneath, a wooden chair, a vaulting box like the one we had in high school. Now that brought back a few shivered memories right there - of my PE teachers scornfully telling fellow pupils to remove the lower section to make it easier for me to try to vault it (still without success). I worried about the new memories and associations I would have to carry around with me after this weekend.
The walls were painted a functional white. No windows. The lighting involved simple bare bulbs suspended from the ceiling at various points.
On the wall opposite the x-frame I saw a large wooden cabinet with an open front, no door, exposing all the tools and implements of punishment and restraint for all to see. Handcuffs, leather straps with buckles and clasps, whips, paddles and canes, hoods, a variety of chastity devices, plugs and dildos neatly arranged on the shelves. I'm sure ease of access was one reason for them being in full view but I'm equally sure that Lady was well aware of the intimidating impact their sight had on the new arrival like myself.
The only fabric I saw in the room was what looked like purple satin material over three low free-standing cupboards by the far wall, hidden from view by the incongruously luxurious cloth.
And lastly in the room I saw an old fashioned pot sink with large brass taps and a series of shelves below housing basins, flannels, jugs and various cleaning cloths, brushes and the like. Plus what looked like hot water bottles and rubber tubing. Again both functional and intimidating.
I took a deep breath and tried to shove my worries and doubts to the back of my mind. No backing out now. I had paid a grand for this weekend and there were no refunds. I hated wasting money and knew that deep down I needed the release this weekend offered me. After twenty years of a loving but stale marriage I know I needed someone to take charge of me and explore parts of my psyche I had never dared lift the lid on when at home.
I quickly undressed on the mat. I folded my clothes as neatly as I could on the floor and placed them in the basket. Should I return the basket to shelves or wait for instructions? Would Lady appreciate the initiative to be tidy and to please her or would she see it as presumptive and arrogant? I felt queasy in my stomach, anxious due to my indecision and fear of the starting the weekend on the wrong note.
I decided to place the basket in the empty alcove on the shelves but as I bent down to pick it up I heard a slight rattle from handle of the door through which Lady had left a few minutes earlier. I was out of time and my indecision had left me with no choice but to leave the basket in place and to stand as smartly as I could next to the basket in my birthday suit.
As I stood naked and exposed I felt the cold. I could feel the hairs on my body respond to the slightest movement of air in the large stark room. I could feel my dick and balls shrivel as they shrank from the cold and the humiliating situation I was about to find myself in.
Eventually the handle turned and the door eased open. Lady slowly entered taking small deliberate steps, clearly enjoying the fear she could sense in me, as she placed each heel in turn upon the floor.
She had changed. Gone were her long black coat, navy trouser suit and white blouse in which she had admitted me to the room.
I noticed first the knee-length leather boots. Not The archetypal S&M patent leather boots with 4 inch heels I had seen in the many dominatrix videos I had watched online. No, these were smart business-like boots with sensible heels made from a leather that looked soft and supple. Built for the comfort of the wearer.
As my eyes creeped upwards I took in the knees and small patch of exposed thigh I could see between the boots and the figure hugging black leather skirt. Again a high quality leather that made not a sound as she walked towards me.
And above that she wore a simple leather bodice. Can leather bodices ever truly be simple? Well this one was as close as you'd get. No adornments at all. As functional as the furniture in the room but high quality and classy as well.
Rising and falling with her breathing, almost imperceptibly, above the bodice, were the fleshy mounds of her breasts. Not huge breasts, one might even say smaller than average, but very firm. Her skin was the beautiful honey brown of the Indian heritage Lady so clearly had. Her hair was the jet black, silky straight hair you would expect. But rather than loose over her shoulders as I had seen in some photos of her it was held at the back of her head and away from her face and shoulders by a single clip. How women could create these engineering marvels by feel and a single clip alone I would never comprehend.
Her face fully exposed was a delight. Delicate but well defined features. Her skin was blemish free (save a couple of beauty spots on her cheek and forehead) and glowing. Her expression was calm and confident, stern and deliberate.
"Put the basket away" she said softly but tersely, almost as if she were already bored of me.
"Yes my Lady. On the self there?" I enquired.
"Where else? Quickly." Her tone telling me I had definitely rubbed her up the wrong way already.
Returning to the mat I stood as central as I could and looked her straight in the eye. What I was hoping to achieve by this I don't know. Maybe I was trying to assert a degree of male pride before the humiliation I knew was soon to be coming my way. Maybe I was simply trying to cover up my fear and anxiety.
