Jennifer stared at the accounting files for the client on whose mortgage she was working. She rubbed her eyes, tired from hours of boring paperwork. Anyone who knew her would never believe that she found her work boring. Jennifer was all business at the office. She was pleasant enough, but didn't socialize with those she worked with outside the office. She never talked about her life, which led most to believe that she didn't have one.
Jennifer tended to dress fairly conservatively, in skirts that, while sometimes snug on her curves, were never too short.....two inches above the knee at most. She wore heels and what most people assumed were normal black hose. Her blouses were not overly suggestive, but it was impossible to hide that she was well built. Most of the men in the office admired her pretty face and imagined what her body must look like. The most accurate imaginations were those that had her as gorgeous. Her breasts were 34C, but still perky. Her dark hair was usually put up, pulled taunt around her beautiful face. Her legs were long and shapely, her tummy flat, and her ass small and tight.
It was not that men around the office had never asked her out, but they had been rebuffed repeatedly, leaving the most arrogant to believe that she was a lesbian. The truth was that she liked to keep her professional life and personal life separate. As regional vice-president of a large bank, she had a great deal of intelligence and education, and it was that and not her good looks that had gotten her to where she was in life. She was highly confident in her abilities and no one doubted that she was in charge when she was with subordinates.
The truth of it all was, Jennifer had a very full personal life, but one that most other people she worked with would neither understand nor look very highly upon. She glanced at the clock on her wall and realized with a start that it was nearly 6PM. She was due to be somewhere at 6:30, and it was nearly a half-hour drive. She often worked well past this time, but it was Friday night. She put the file she was working on away in a drawer. It would keep until Monday. Jennifer gathered her things and headed out of the office and to the parking garage where her Acura awaited. She quickly got in and headed toward her destination.
Jennifer arrived at the large, expensive house at 6:31, having been delayed by a car accident on the freeway. She closed her eyes for a moment. Her tardiness would have consequences, which both frightened her and excited her. She got out of her car and let herself into the house. She looked around the large house briefly. No one seemed to be there, but she knew better. She decided not to waste time. She had things to do, and she didn't want to compound her lateness with a failure to get done the things she was required to do.
Jennifer hung up her coat in the closet and entered the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and reached back to pull out the pins that held her brunette hair up in the professional style she wore to work, allowing the dark tresses to fall to her shoulders. She removed her grey blouse and black skirt, hanging them on hooks that were designated for her. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror of the large bathroom.
Jennifer now looked very different from the prim and proper business executive that worked at a bank. She wore a black lace push-up bra, a matching thong, and despite what everyone assumed, not pantyhose but black lace trim thigh highs, a black lace garter belt and garters attached to the stockings. In this context, her black heels, which everyone assumed was to give her added stature, went perfectly with her clothes. To top it all off, Jennifer reached into one of the drawers and pulled out the contents of that particular drawer.
Jennifer fastened the black leather choker around her neck snugly. She fastened the leather cuffs to her wrists and ankles. From another drawer she pulled the small makeup bag and quickly touched up her makeup. She didn't wear much at work, and so had to put on the darker eye-shadow and red lipstick that was preferred when she was here. She glanced at herself in the mirror again to make sure everything looked right. The professional banker had, in just a few moments, turned herself into a willing sex slave.
The newly transformed slave left the bathroom quickly and went to the kitchen, retrieving a platter of sliced fruit and cheeses. She headed upstairs to one of the five bedrooms in 5000 square foot house. Three of the bedrooms were standard guest rooms, and of course there was the larger master bedroom. She smiled at the thought of the name of that room. It was quite aptly named considering who slept there. Jennifer dropped her smile as she remembered what was likely in store for her in moments.
The willing slave opened the door to the fifth bedroom. Unlike the others, this one was not outfitted with standard furniture. It was actually quite an oddity. The room was half study, half dungeon. It was large, more than twenty-five feet by twenty-five feet. It had no windows, and was painted dark, in stark contrast to the rest of the house. The wall opposite the door had more than two-dozen hooks on which were hung whips, floggers, crops, gags, and an assortment of other bondage equipment. On the wall to her right was a St. Andrew's Cross, a piece of equipment she knew she would likely be attached to shortly. From the ceiling in the middle of the room, hung a large chain. It hung to a height that was just a little over her 5ft 7in frame; at least, that's the size she was with 4 inch heels.
To her left was a large leather chair, with small end tables on either side of it. In the chair, sat her master.
Even after being together for 14 months, the sight of him made her involuntarily gasp slightly. He was 6 ft tall when standing, with a head that was shaved bald, and a neatly trimmed gotee. He was 8 years senior to her 27, but you couldn't tell it from looking at him, his body as firm and toned as it had been when he was in college. He held a glass of fine scotch whiskey in his hand, she saw, as was normal for him this time of evening. Jennifer briefly stole a glance at his most startling feature, his eyes. Dark and confident, they were capable of conveying everything he was feeling with no other facial expression. They could demonstrate love and passion, anger and lust.
In that brief glance, Jennifer could see that his eyes now cast annoyance and disappointment. This was not surprising due to her lateness. The glance was brief as she was forbidden from making eye contact with him, and thus behaving as an equal, unless he expressly allowed it. Her eyes instead looked downward as she approached him. She placed the tray she carried on the table to his right and then stepped back to stand in front of him, before sinking to her knees, her perfect ass sitting on her heels. Her knees were spread as far apart as possible, her hands clasped in the small of her back, her head and eyes downcast. This was the proper position for her to be in when she entered Master's presence.
She stayed like that for what seemed a long time. She heard Master take a couple sips of his scotch in the meantime. The longer he waited to speak, the more her anticipation grew. Jennifer knew with certainty that she would be punished for being late, and as her imagination ran wild with the possibilities she felt her pussy getting very wet. She didn't enjoy the pain that she endured while being punished, but she enjoyed pleasing her master, and if she failed to do that with obedience then she was happy to do that by accepting her punishments, no matter how harsh.
Finally, Master spoke. "I'm very disappointed with you, Whore," he said roughly. There were many pet names he had for her, but "whore" was what he called her when he was displeased with her. The word stung her, but not because of it's degrading tone, but rather that she had so upset him. He was not overly harsh, and she repaid his kindness by trying to never disappoint him, but she was not perfect.
In a level voice, he continued, "We have a big weekend planned. I have intended, and still intend, to make it a good one. However, this is not a good start." He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. The pause had its desired effect. "I think the best thing to do is to address this issue immediately, and then moving on to enjoy the party tonight, and the guests we will be having over tomorrow night."
Jennifer had been looking forward to tonight's party, and she knew Master had as well. One of the reasons she found Master so irresistible was his calm demeanor, even when she was disobedient, and he disappointed in her. She could hear Master take a bite of one of the pieces of fruit from the tray she had brought up from the kitchen. A moment later he said, "What do you think, Slut?" he asked.
Without looking up she replied softly, "I think that is a wonderful idea, Master. I am sorry that I was late, and I look forward to receiving whatever punishment you deem fit for me."
"Very well then," Master said. "Stand and go to the cross."
Jennifer swallowed and stood gracefully. She walked to the opposite wall and turned, standing facing toward her master, eyes downward, feet spread three feet apart, and her hands clasped behind her. From her periphery vision she could see Master rise and walk to the wall to her right where the various tools of bondage hung on hooks. She could see that Master selected several items from the wall, but not looking directly at him he could not tell what items he had selected. The slave was sure she would find out soon enough.
Master approached her and stopped less than a foot in front of her. "Remove your bra," he commanded. She complied quickly, removing her black lace bra, exposing her pert C cup breasts to him. Her nipples were already erect with excitement. Master took a brief moment to admire his slave's breasts before he used the first item he had selected from the wall. A pair of stainless steel nipple clamps pinched her hard nipples. Jennifer winced at the pain, and then more so as he slowly tightened the clamps.
