Cap walked along the street nervously. Although this what he wanted and had dreamed and fantasised about doing for so long now there were still butterflies in the pit of his stomach at actually doing it. But he couldn't back out now. To avoid that he had visited the Mistress yesterday to discuss what he wanted to do (or rather what he wanted her to do) and paid the money, that way he felt that he couldn't back out of it. And as he walked along the quiet midweek street at midmorning he suddenly knew he didn't want to back out. God, his mind was turning circles, first he desperately wanted to go through with it, then he couldn't face it. This was a form of hell but never the less he didn't stop and it wasn't long before he was paused in front of the entrance of the unassuming city house. He took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. No sound reached him and he wondered if it actually rung, but he had thought the same yesterday and he had been answered then.
Cap's wait was interminable, but in truth was less than half a minute before the door swung inwards and he was ushered in by a large, coloured woman called Carmel, who he had met on his visit the day before. She nodded at him and turned heel and stormed away, seemingly not bothered whether he was following her or not.
He followed obediently and she led him through the smartly decorated house. But he didn't take the time to look at the modern furniture or the bright paintings that lined the narrow walls, rather he carried his briefcase tight to his chest and concentrated on keeping up with her, knowing that it was almost too late now to turn back. He briefly wondered about all the other men that might be behind the doors in the corridor but no longer as Carmel knocked then entered the last door on the left and bade for Cap to follow her in. He did so and found the room in pitch black darkness, just a bright light shining upon him. A cultured, controlled voice from the shadows spoke to him.
"You are here. Good. Now put your briefcase down, undress completely, give your clothes to Carmel and kneel with your eyes trained on the floor."
Cap obey the instructions to the letter and very soon Carmel was leaving the room with his clothes and he dropped his athletic frame to it's knees and lowered his head of strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes to the cold stone floor below him. He knelt there in reverential silence and soon light began to flood into the room, slowly at first and then the room was exposed Sat in the centre sat the woman who had spoken, Pro Domme extraordinaire, Mistress Monica. She sat back in the tall armchair with her legs crossed, watching her latest client with an amused, detached interest. She had had her share of extreme and bizarre clients but she had the feeling that this could be the strangest session of her seven year career.
At last she stood up, Cap somehow kept his eyes lowered despite the ache he felt to again look upon this phenomenally gorgeous, dominant woman. She rose to her full height of six foot and even ten yards away towered over Cap. She was slender and had perfectly coiffed, hazelnut coloured long hair, was 29 years old and wore a totally imperturbable expression whenever in the presence of clients. She was wearing her normal attire of a tight black bodice (laced up the back) showing just the hint of the tops of her breasts and a tight, black skirt that came to just above her knees. She strutted confidently on high, thin stiletto heels until she stood over the kneel man (maybe more of a boy).
She cast a gaze at the briefcase then squatted to open it and spent a minute checking all the items were there. With a nod to herself she rose up again and addressed Cap.
"From now until I decide differently your name is slave. Or Bitch. Or slut. Or wimp. Or whatever I want. Understand?"
A nod of his head. Which got the reaction of Mistress Monica standing her right foot on his left thigh, driving the point over her heel into his soft flesh. He gritted his teeth, knowing not to complain.
"And you call me Mistress at all times. Understand?"
"Yes Mistress."
"Good, now lets make you feel a little bit more helpless, eh slave? Hands behind your back."
Cap obeyed and felt his Mistress for the day snap a pair of steel handcuffs on his exposed wrists behind his back. There was no way back now.
She stood back for a moment and enjoyed his vulnerability, she really did enjoy her job, at times she felt that she would be willing to do this all day and not be paid for it. But being paid was so much better. She stooped and lifted a thick black marker pen from the briefcase, then stood up and clicked the top off it and took a quick smell of the powerful ink, enjoying a tiny hit of its aroma.
"Stand up slave!"
Cap rose up unsteadily, finding it hard to keep his balance with his arms stuck behind his back.
"Just so you remember who you are I think I should write your names on you? What do you think?"
"Whatever you wish Mistress."
"Damned right!"