The thunder cracked down, lighting up the dark sky as the storm rolled around the valley. It was a damp, sticky and stiflingly hot afternoon and the rain was pouring down. I didn't give a damn. I was on holiday and in a few minutes my lovely new girlfriend, Sharon, a busty 20-year-old brunette, would be at my door ready for another afternoon of sex and mild sadism.
I'm 30, tall, dark-haired and well-built (especially
there
– it's eight inches) and of all the amateur dominatrixes I've enjoyed sex with, Sharon is the best. She had wangled an afternoon off work from the bookstore where she works in Bangor, Maine, and was due at 2pm to fuck me, then flog me! The thunder and lighting could go on all day, for all I cared.
I checked myself out in the mirror. I was wearing a bright red PVC thong, cut high on my hips, which allowed my semi-stiff prick plenty of room to rise to the occasion, as it were.
Then, just past 2pm, the front door bell rang once, then twice – Sharon's signal! My heart was thumping as I rushed to the door and opened it, being careful to stand behind it and only pop my head around the frame. Our little cul-de-sac is quiet, but neighbours pry, especially in this little neck of the woods.
Standing in the pouring rain in a gleaming black rubber mackintosh which had a hooded cape and came down nearly to her booted ankles, was a woman the same height and build as my lovely Sharon, but who most certainly was not her!
"Hi, Kevin," the stranger said, pulling the cape from her head to shake lovely golden brown hair around the throat of her mac, "I'm Karen, Sharon's mom. She can't make it and has asked me to fill in. You gonna let me drown out here?"
With an involuntary jerk, I pulled the door wider and she stepped past me, the rubber raincoat dropping little pools of water on the tiled floor. I stepped back, acutely aware that I was almost naked in front of a total stranger.
Karen smiled and reached into her raincoat pocket for a mobile phone. "Sharon's left a message on my phone for you, here check it out," she said, passing me the mobile.
She indicated which button to press, then I heard Sharon's voice: "Hi Kev, it's me. Look, something's come up, I won't be able to make it for an hour or two, so I've sent mom to look after you. She's very experienced and I expect you to obey her every command – every fuckin' command, got it? If you don't I'll be so totally pissed. Byeeee."
I handed the mobile back to Karen, who grinned broadly at me, her big brown eyes dancing. "Now be a gentleman and hang this raincoat up for me," she said, unbelting the rubber garment.
As I took it from her I found that she was already dressed for "action". Her breasts were encased in a sheer black brassiere, her nipples standing erect. A pair of sheer black panties completed her clothing, a dark patch of pubic hair sprouting just above clearly visible piss flaps. The outfit was completed by a gleaming pair of black leather boots, which came to half-way up her shapely thighs.
"Nice thong, Kev," she said, as I admired her lovely body, very similar in size and shape to her daughter's. "Turn around."
The tone of her voice brooked no argument, and I did as I was told. "Hmmm, very faint stripe marks – when did Sharon last discipline you?"
"Erm, about five days ago, Karen," I responded.
"Time we freshened them up then, isn't it?" she laughed, not really expecting an answer, I guessed.
"Now, lover boy," she said, walking ahead of me into my lounge, "fetch me a nice cold beer, I sure could do with one on this humid old day." And with that she plunked herself down on my large leather couch as if she owned the place!
I went to the kitchen and fetched her a bottle of Bud, bringing one for myself. She accepted it, patted the couch beside her, and sucked on the beer.
"How long you been fucking my daughter," she asked.
"Er, about a month," I answered.
"You're 30, right?" she asked.
I nodded.
"Like 'em young do you?"
"Er, no, not necessarily," I replied. "I like them, how can I put it? I like them assertive, confident, age isn't really a factor."
"You like 'em to be bossy bitches, you like to be dominated 'cos you're a submissive, correct?" said Karen, cutting to the chase.
"Yes," I said, looking down and then sucking on my Bud to hide my feeling of embarrassment.
"So you've no objection to a 45-year-old doing the domming?" she asked, staring me aggressively in the eye.
"No, I guess not," I said, well aware of the message that Sharon had left on her mother's mobile.
"Good, that's got that settled," she said, sipping more of the Bud down. "Now get out of the latex thing and show me what you're made of. If it matches up to the rest of you, I'm gonna be impressed."
I stood and peeled off the thong, then stayed standing, intensely aware that my cock, with a mind of its own, was standing out there in erection, pre-cum gathering at its tip!
"Very nice," Karen smiled, "very nice, indeed. Uncut, too. I like an uncut cock, it gives a dominatrix so many more options when it comes to cock and ball torture. Sharon do that to you?"
"Occasionally," I admitted.
"OK, Kev," she said, "lead the way. I'm told by my darling daughter you call it 'the games room', that right?"
"Correct, Karen," I said, "I think the term 'games room' has got a certain sort of ambiguity." Christ, I must have sounded like a cunt!
"Yeah," she sneered, "well I prefer 'dungeon' or, if you really wanna call a spade a fuckin' shovel, how about 'torture chamber'?"
"I suppose that's one way of putting it," I conceded, agreeing with this incredibly forceful woman.
"Sure is, buster," she snapped. "Now let's cut the crap. Take me to the torture chamber!"
We walked through the house, Karen carrying her Bud and her mobile phone, me my Bud, down to the small but cosy little room at the back of the house, where I had enjoyed so many domination sessions with countless dominas.
Some of them had been professionals, some of them amateurs, like Sharon, only to call Sharon an "amateur" is doing her skills at domination a grave injustice.
"Very nice," said Karen, eyeing the chamber. "As Sharon said it's cosy, it looks to have all the necessary stuff and it is secluded. Is it sound-proofed?"
I must have looked startled, because Karen laughed and reassured me: "Don't worry, Kevin, I'm not going to flay the flesh from your back, trust me."
"It's padded and it's well away from the neighbours' properties," I said, standing in the middle of the room.
Karen shut the door behind her, and unhooked her bra, allowing her breasts to sink slightly into their natural cups. "I'm a lady who prefers to punish in the nude," she smiled, "guess you've got no objections to that, eh Kev?"
My erection denoted that I had not, but I muttered: "No, of course not, Karen – lovely breasts."
She smiled appreciatively and cupped them in her hands. "They're 38s, just like my darling daughter's," she informed me. "Have a taste."
And with that she stepped forward and allowed me to lower my mouth to her left breast and suck on the erect nipple, surrounded by quite a large expanse of berry brown areola. I was then allowed to worship her other breast.
After that, Karen pressed her booted thighs closely together so that she could struggle out of her knickers. "I know what you slave boys like," she said, brightly, placing them over my face, the gusset in the perfect place – over my nostrils and mouth.
They were damp, the aroma intense. My prick stiffened even more.
Karen then fossicked about among the equipment in one corner and came back to me with a spreader bar, which she attached to my ankles, forcing my feet at least a yard apart.
She returned to the equipment and found a leather padded yoke, which she placed across my shoulders, then used the velcro strapping to bind my arms and hands onto it. I was now naked and totally vulnerable to her.
Karen finally picked a black rubber flogger, with some dozen thongs, which I knew would sting but which would not scar or cut my flesh. She apparently knew what she was doing – as Sharon had said in her message, "she's very experienced".
My surprise domina then cupped my balls in one hand and remarked: "Heavy, very heavy, Kevvy. When'd you last come?"
"During Sharon's last visit five days ago, Karen," I answered.
"Christ," she laughed, "you're a fuckin' monk!"
Then she pressed a forefinger into my foreskin and flicked it around, collecting a glob of pre-cum, which she then presented to my mouth. I sucked her finger clean.
"This is what you like about domination, isn't it Kev?" she asked, as I tasted my own juices. "You like the excitement of the anticipation, don't you?
