He unlocks the door and enters His home. The workday quickly flows from His body. His troubles seem to melt away. A rye smile creeps over His face. Anticipation fills His veins.
He dumps His keys and briefcase on the bench, cracks His knuckles, and heads to the pantry. He slides the door open and let's it bang against the inner wall, knowing it can be heard from below. A pause ...
Reaching down, He lifts the floor mat slightly and reveals a steal "O" ring in the floor. Steadying Himself, He lifts the the ring ... opening the trap door with a long slow creeking.
He traverses the ladder like wooden steps down the tight opening. His pathway illuminated by candles. At the bottom a small alcove with two shelves and several pegs and hooks. On the smaller shelf, the uppermost shelf, sits a tumbler, filled with ice, Jack Daniels and coke. He lifts the glass to His lips and takes a sip. "Good girl" he thinks as the last of the day washes from His mind.
On the pegs before Him hang His most prized possessions ... His favourites. A wooden paddle, a leather riding crop, a cane, a one foot long leather cot'o'nine tails, and a coit. On the shelf below where His drink sat lays her choice ... a set of hand cuffs, which sit upon a pair of her panties ... a surprise for Master.
And He does love surprises. Thoughtful little gifts and jestures ... she is so special. He picks up the cuffs on one finger and twurls them. Then He takes the panties, lifts them to His nose and inhales deep. her scent has Him aroused immediately. He replaces them on the shelf ... smiling ... chuckling.
He steps out of the alcove, a few more steps down and He is in His huge basements ... or "Dungeon" as He prefers to reffer to it as. The large weather board Victorian home, surrounded on all sides by a large patio ... all conceal His inner sanctume. The hidden trap door, the tunneled stairwell, the huge bluestone bunker, coal store and cellar. The place He truely felt at home in.
He looks across the room past all His handmade toys ... the St. Andrews Cross, the cage, the whipping post, the rack, the Iron Maiden, the stocks, various horses ... His gaze fixes on His craved wooden thrown, a small table on one side, a large animal fur on the other, on which she kneels. He looks at her and grins from ear to ear.
Naked she kneels, feet crosed and tucked under her buttocks. Knees spread wide with her hands resting palm up on her thighs. Head and eyes lowered in respect ... patiently awaiting her Master. He can see the longing on her face.
Master's footsteps down the stairs had filled her with excitement. His pause on the landing had made her ache with anticipation. His chuckle at her favoured choice of toy for today (plus her surprise) had made her moist with pleasure. His pressence alone made her drip.
Master's leather soles clap against the cold stone floor of the dungeon. The closer He get's, the wetter she becomes, biting her lower lip to stop from moaning at His approach ... His presence.
He places His drink and the cuffs on the small table and stands before her. He places His hand gently against her cheek. His hand slides under her chin and He lifts her head up ... she looks into His eyes with a love filled smile on her face.
"How was your day gorgeous?" He asks. "Very good thank You Master ... but i missed You terribly Sir. How was Your day Master?" "My day was fine gorgeous ... and I missed you too" He replied.
He sits in His thrown, and takes a sip from His drink, breathing out deeply He sighs as the day has well and true been forgotten. He reaches over to her and takes her hand in His. Patting His thigh with His other hand He motions to her, and helps her stand as He guides her up into His lap.
