Hot & Bothered

Discussion in 'Member fiction' started by Ms. Joanne, Jul 26, 2019.

  1. Ms. Joanne
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    Ms. Joanne Long term member

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    I feel depleted, the temperature is dreadfully stifling. I gaze at the thermometer, eighty five degrees… far too hot! I think to myself that a cooling shower would be so delightful right now, the perfect way to reinvigorate myself. I gave voice to desire, and my loyal slave obeys and heads into the bathroom.

    Within moments he returns promptly and informs me that my shower is prepared. I nod my head and give him a gentle smile in response, then I rise from my chair and start walking sexily in his direction. I can feel his gaze upon me as those sweet blue eyes follow my six inch stilettos. I know what he’s doing… he’s admiring my heels as I click across the floor, one delicate foot falling in front of one another. The thought amuses me, for the sound of my heels will certainly be reverberating around his fevered and horny little mind, as he craves worshipping my magnificent feet and legs. I know what he wants and how his mind works. If only I’d let him kiss my shiny, black patent pumps, or even allow him to suck on the heels, and later even kiss my sheer nylon encased legs. He’s secretly begging for it, wishing for it.., even praying for it. For he knows, should I even allow it, that he would be lost forever in rapturous bliss.

    Those blue eyes shining out of that black latex hood I made him wear, filled with wanton hunger, yet so utterly powerless in my presence. Beseeching me to stroke my legs, imploring with those eyes for me to lift my skirt, and command him to kiss my silky, satin, black panties. Not today my toy… my plaything!

    He is an absolute slave to my will, one who requires instruction, guidance and of course punishment. He yearns for my control, for it is like a delicious drug to him. A drug that enthrals him and caresses his thoughts, giving him true purpose in life. I want for nothing, and all he longs for in return is service to a powerful, dominant woman.

    Of course he wasn’t always this way. I remember how stubborn he used to be, how inconsiderate… at least until I broke him of his foolish conceits. He had such despicable habits and was quite the degenerate. A woman such as I can’t live with such behaviour. I certainly didn’t trust him as he ogled at other women like some lecherous thing, nor could I ever rely on him. He was really quite flawed, but my love once blinded me and I didn’t care to see it. However even a flaw can be corrected or polished over if one has the willpower to see it done. Especially when I locked up his manhood and denied him release till a moment of my choosing. I carry the key on a chain around my neck, letting it hang between my breasts, for he knows that as his Mistress I am also his jailer.

    Like all foolish men, he resented it at first… how he begged and whined for an orgasm. It was truly pathetic! Is that what it means to be a man I wondered… to be at the mercy of your own genitals… to be ruled by your own despicable pleasures which you place before all other considerations. After some time he learnt to be humble and passive, especially when he realised exactly what submitting to me truly meant.

    I told him submission was not just for the weekends, it is a permanent arrangement and a contract which binds us to one another. At first, I think he thought I was joking, since this was just a kinky fantasy he wanted to explore…one he begged and implored me to indulge… he thought poorly! This isn’t about him, it’s about what he does for me and what he brings to our relationship. I’ve improved him… he’s a better person now. A far more conscientious and caring human being.

    I am not unkind, in fact I care for him deeply… he is a special pet. One which I have invested my valuable time in and one I am responsible for. But like all pets they must be completely house trained. I find in this life anything worth doing should always be done well. It took me a lot of time and effort, plus many substantial beatings to remind him of his true place… his position beneath my heels. There are times when it entertains me to make him wear a collar, like a little dog. I have him crawl around on all fours as I lead him with a chain around the house. Even more amusing, when I make him lick up his lunch from a dog’s bowl… it’s quite a novelty for me, but I know deep down he’s loving every second of playing his part in this delightful pantomime.

    Some might wonder how any of this is even possible, but I must say things became far easier for me when I realised how much like a horse a submissive is. You can be affectionate, groom them… even give them carrots as a reward, but the problem with that approach is the horse will eventually take advantage of you. No matter how much kindness you give them, they may bolt or even kick their Mistress in a moment of sheer stupidity.

    When you find yourself in that position you’ve simply given the horse too many carrots and it’s time to break out the riding crop and demonstrate your utter dominance. I find the analogy is really quite perfect, for does not a horse gallop faster when it is struck with a crop or whip? Of course it does… as does a submissive when they simply don’t bring you your morning coffee or lunch quickly enough.

    In a way the many red marks left across their thighs, buttocks or even genitals is a reminder of their ill-considered disobedience… a temporary brand or badge of humiliation. A good slave learns from these experiences and always seeks to improve, but a bad slave always craves punishment instead of duty.

    Outside the bathroom I step out of my heels and my little helper gathers them up like precious things, placing them neatly with reverence to one side. He marvels at my red polished nails gleaming through the smoky black nylon, the numerous fantasies in his mind literally doing cartwheels, but they will all be for nought today.

    Long ago he would watch me when I undressed, assaulting my body with his ravenous and fevered eyes. I could have undressed privately I suppose, but where’s the fun in that? I love my body and I want him to adore me as I require, but I also want him to respect me as I deserve. So instead I thought of something far more engaging, after a sufficient time in lock up had thoroughly humbled him. I made him my body servant and it is now his duty to dress and undress me. I find it very appropriate and it makes perfect sense for a woman of my status. For am I not as nobility to him? Of course I am, in fact I am much more. I am his Goddess and his purpose in life and he as my supplicant, desires nothing more than to worship at my beguiling altar.

    I did have to train him extensively to take absolute care not to soil my beautiful clothes with filthy hands, or put a run in my stocking with an untrimmed nail. To do such a thing would invite swift and immediate retribution.

    Did I also mention what a potty mouth he used to have? No… well he did, always “fuck” this and “bastard” that. I think he only did it to appear more masculine, back when he pretended he was a dominant man, at a time when he tried to deceive me about his nature. Such foul language was highly inappropriate and I felt he was in desperate need of improving his limited vocabulary. I made it clear that it was shameful and he got the message eventually after I thrashed it out of him. After all if you expect the divine to ever speak to you then you must always conduct yourself in a respectful manner. I can be a most vengeful Goddess when slighted and it is my duty to punish those who dare to curse in my presence.

    First he unzips my dress ever so carefully and I step out of it. He folds it so neatly and places it down upon a nearby chair. With a delicate touch he then unclasps my suspender belt and gently slides my stockings down, first the left and then the right. It must be such a tease to touch those delicate things and yet be so completely powerless. It makes me giggle with delight as he folds these nylon trinkets of desire and places them in a pretty pink satin lined box and then closes the lid. He says nothing but I know he is smiling with relish beneath his latex mask as he carries out his duty.

    And now he is unhooking my bra, feeling the black lace between his fingers, taking such care not to caress the material too long in case I should notice and punish him. As he slides my bra straps down he takes such diligence not to let his hands wander over my shoulders. My large firm breasts spill out and he averts his eyes so they won’t accidentally linger over my erect nipples.

    The key to his chastity device dangles on its chain between my breasts. I run one slender finger along the chain considering how much happiness this control has given me.

    Lastly he now pulls down my panties ever so gently, the enchanting satin beneath his fingers now firing electric pulses of adoration and desperation throughout his entire body. Yet he says nothing as he has been instructed, for he does not wish to displease me.

    After he has taken my last remaining garment away I step into the shower, the cold water spilling over my smooth skin. Normally I don’t enjoy cold showers but today is an exception and it makes my nipples even more erect, the shock of the water liberating me from my weary malaise… so refreshing! My slave returns to stand in the corner of the bathroom as he has been schooled and I turn to face him. I let him see my naked body through the glass shower doors, as I use a soapy soft sponge and coat my breasts and vagina with foam. I did consider disallowing him when I first started this wonderful routine, but I firmly believe that to gaze in torment and never touch is a far more unbearable experience.

    I’m using a delightful lavender gel and I know the fragrant smell of it must be intoxicating for him even beneath his mask, as his blue wide eyes continually observe me. They request permission to enter and join me… yet I will deny him!

    I smile back at him, my eyes watching his muscular naked body as I once more giggle out loud. Seeing how he is securely locked up in his chastity device, with his balls hanging uselessly to either side. The tube is opaque and pink is such a pretty colour.

    I press my bubble covered breasts against the glass and caress my nipples with my fingertips… he moans with delight seeing the shiny key hang between them, but the sound is muffled beneath the latex. I continue to arouse myself and let one hand slide down to my vagina, slipping one finger deep inside. I murmur with the incredible pleasure, feeling the heat rise within me and then another moan escapes from my slave… but louder this time. I sense he may be in danger of too much arousal, so I turn my back to him but continue to indulge my pleasure.

    I did this for some time, I forget how long exactly, but I cried out in such utter ecstasy as I climaxed, the gratification of this experience was always such a thrill. In fact I had turned it into a fine art by incorporating the shower and having my slave in attendance. It was literally a sensual high class peep show for him and always such a joy for me. I know I shouldn’t indulge this really but I can’t help myself… it’s just so much fun!

    After I wash and condition my hair, I decide I have cooled off quite adequately. I open the glass doors and step onto the luxurious bath mat. My slave steps forward immediately and wraps me in a soft towel. He is about to start drying me but I thwart his intention. “I think not sweetie!”

    “Have I displeased you Mistress?” He enquires.

    I notice how he dribbles from the pink cage, and I grasp his swollen balls firmly.

    “You’re getting rather heated,” I state in a mocking tone. “If I leave you in this state you might even hurt yourself.” He yearns for release, but I am not at all merciful. I motion toward the shower with one outstretched red talon. “Get in.”

    “Yes Mistress,” he steps inside as directed. I turn the shower to the coldest setting and close the doors.

    “Now you will stay in there until I give you permission to step out”.

    “Yes Mistress.” He intones with such obedience beneath his mask.

    “We can’t have you getting so hot and bothered.” I giggle at the amusement of it all and walk out of the room.





     
    limsub, Fadia, archlicker999 and 14 others like this.
  2. knightlyDevotion
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    What in incredible story Ms. Joanne; what I wouldn't give to be in his place.

    You are a wonderful writer and had me quite engaged.

    Thank you.
     
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  3. Love2blocked
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    Love2blocked Active member

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    Absolutely Beautiful..
     
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  4. kickball
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    kickball Submitting to the power of a Domme

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    Fantastic Ms Joanne - I love the analogy with horses/subs,
     
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  5. Gking
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    Gking Active member

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    Beautifully written and adore the equine references as I would dearly love to be owned by a lady of the livery yard
     
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  6. archlicker999
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    archlicker999 Member

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    Such a lucky slave....
     
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