I watch as you walk into the den. You are wearing black high heels and patterned nylons. You don't wear nylons often, but they look great on you and highlight your long legs. My eyes scroll up your body as you prepare to kneel before me and kiss my feet. Your black leather skirt looks great with your leather bustier. As your head dips to kiss my feet, I look adoringly at my lovely wife and her gorgeous face, which I love to kiss.
While you demonstrate your submission by kissing my feet, I bend forward and stroke your hair. You sit up in a kneeling position and say, "My Loved Master." I bend forward and hold your chin in my hand, lifting your head, I look you in the eyes, and say, "I love you, my wife and slave."
"My girl, you were gone for a few weeks, so I had some workmen come over and we built a chamber next to this den. Come with me, girl." I take a leash from the arm of the chair and snap it to her collar. As I rise, she follows, waiting a few moments to demonstrate her obedience and protocol, following two steps behind me.
She follows me over to the bookcase, where I pull forward a book called "Marquis de Sade." There is a click, and the bookcase moves slightly to the right. I place a hand on the bookcase and open it to reveal a short hallway.
The hallway is dimly lit, and at the end is a door. Beside the door is a small handle which I pull down. There is a click, and the door swings open slightly. This door is also concealed by a bookcase. When my girl has completed walking through, I close the bookcase door behind her. I watch intently as she takes in a room she has never entered before. The bookcase is situated on a small, raised platform, and this part of the room resembles the one you just left. Dark, elegant leather chairs, the bookcase, and even a palm plant.
That is where the similarities end. This room is definitely a dungeon. There is a cage, the familiar tripod from which I enjoy suspending my slave. At the end of the room, there are two large structures, one made from bamboo and the other from steel.
As she looks around and takes in everything, I make myself comfortable in a deep red club chair. When she turns, I can see the shock on her face as she realises she has broken a protocol by not paying more attention. As a slave, she should always be focused on her Master. My girl should be kneeling at her Master's feet or curling up against his leg. As she prepares to lower herself, I say, "Stop, don't kneel".
She halts what she is doing and stands before me with her head bowed in submission and with her hands cupped behind your back. "Come here, girl, and bend forward." She steps forward obediently and bends forward. I am sure she thinks I just want to look at her cleavage. I must admit the bustier does a great job of pushing her breasts together, providing a deep channel to view. I am sure she picked this outfit intentionally, as she knows how I admire her breasts. If she intended to get me aroused, she has done the trick.
When I reached forward, she assumed I was going to touch her breasts, so she took a deep breath to push them out further, but instead, I unclipped the leash from her collar.
With a wide grin, I say, "Dance for me, girl." I know I surprised her, as we spent many nights dancing together at the various clubs we visited. However, I can never remember asking her to dance for me.
I reach over to a table beside my chair and click a button, and the sultry classic sound of "Black Velvet" fills the room. She closes her eyes and starts moving her hips to the music. She lifts her arms above your head and starts swaying seductively to the song. Her knees bend slightly as her body twists to the tune, and she swings her head back and forth, making her hair swish in the air. She half opens her eyes as the song starts to end, and she smiles. She is pleased to see her Master smiling, and the ridge in my pants, which she knows is not a pleat, and she grins.
As another sultry song begins, I look at her intently as she continues to dance. I say in a firm voice, "Girl... strip".
The look in her eyes confirms that she understands that today is a series of firsts, as I have never requested her to do a strip tease. As the sexy music continues to fill the room, she continues to move her body.
She starts by undoing the clips on her bustier. As she gets to the last clip, she turns her back to me and removes the bustier. She holds it in one hand, extending it out from her body, and lets it drop while the music plays.
She turns back towards me, her loving husband. She places her hands under her breasts and begins to fondle them, running her thumb over the hardening nipple. Then she looks straight at me with a sultry look, twists each nipple between a finger and thumb, and emits a low moan, "ummmm." I grin widely, roll my eyes and say, "Brat." And she grins, pleased with herself.
I roll my hand around, as if to say, 'Continue.' She moves her hands slowly down her sides to her hips, which continue to sway to the music. She moves her hands to the front of your skirt and unbuttons the top of the zipper closure. She takes a deep breath and slides her hand under the skirt, and then slowly drags it out. She brings the hand to her nose, inhales deeply, and smells the scent of her loins as she becomes aroused.
Not wanting to show me any mercy, or more likely she wants me to enjoy the show, she brings the scented fingers to her mouth and sucks two fingers between her pouty lips. She sucks on the fingers, looking at me, her Master. She drags the fingers out of her mouth and brings them to her nipple and wets it, making it puff even more. She moans and bites her lip as the moisture on her nipple feels good. She shivers and moans, "ahhhh."
She then reluctantly returns to what I ordered her to do. Her hands reach for the skirt. With one hand, she holds on to the fabric where the button closure is located. With the other, she lowers the zipper down to the bottom. She lets go of the skirt as her hips move seductively. The skirt drops to the floor, and you kick it away with your foot.
A small red thong lies over the garter belt, both of which were hidden by the skirt. She looks up at me, I nod, and with two fingers, I gesture downwards. She grabs the small bows at her hips, pulls slowly, and the red thong drops to the floor. She kicks it aside to join the skirt.
Not knowing when to stop, her hands move to the snaps on the garter belt, at which point I say, "You can stop." I nod, with a satisfying grin, "A very well done and pleasing show, my girl. I need to get you to dance for me more often."
