Ruth got out of her car and
looked up and down the quiet street. It was a Saturday in spring and some
people were out in their gardens while others were piling into their cars to go
shopping. A few had perhaps left early to go to the football match in town. But
everywhere looked so utterly normal!
She liked moments like these and
took a few seconds to savour the feeling of air circulating beneath her skirt
and cooling her pussy which was always dangerously moist just before she
entered her master's house. When she had renewed her car a few months back she
had deliberately gone for dark upholstery to hide any damp patches that the
usual 'no knickers' order might cause. Fortunately the choice of skirt colour
was left up to her so she could safely wear back or dark blue skirts - just so
long as they weren't below the knee. But on the other hand he didn't like her
looking too tarty either, so she was spared having to tug down bum scarves when
she got out of the car. At twenty-nine she was a mature woman, he told her, and
he liked her to attend on him dressed like one.
So here she was; in front of his
comfortable, detached house on a road which, she suspected, was home to account
managers and systems analysts with maybe a scattering of solicitors. And she
was naked under her skirt and was about to have things done to her that would
shock and horrify the solid citizenry all around her. Yes, she loved these
moments when outwardly she presented a picture of respectable femininity, she
wore a perfectly reasonable grey sweater over a black, tailored skirt finishing
some two inches above the knee. The welts of the dark stockings were safely out
of sight. What she considered her best assets - her thirty-eight DD breasts -
were safely supported and cradled in a light coloured bra that hardly betrayed
its presence beneath her sweater.
But underneath her clothes Ruth
was, at times like this, and today was no exception, a cauldron of down and
dirty lust. In a few minutes she would be naked and her master would be taking
his pleasure with her body in any way he chose. All control and all choices
would be stripped away from her and the blessed relief of helplessness would be
hers.
And yet all around her people
would be getting on with their everyday lives while her master would be winding
a cocoon of wild pleasure around them that no one could penetrate. If he was
feeling in a good mood, she would be allowed to orgasm freely and would love
it. But equally she would love it if he forbade her to orgasm, any
demonstration of his total control was to be treasured as far as Ruth was
concerned.
She curbed her thoughts as she
felt the heat build in her belly. He was always amused at how wet she was when
she entered his house, but it wouldn't do to orgasm the moment he touched her.
However, the thought of his fingers finding their way into her at the start of
the session nearly undid her good intentions so she hoisted her bag onto her
shoulder and strode towards the house, her heels clacking loudly on the quiet
suburban street. As she approached the front door she took out his house keys.
She had given herself to her master just over a year before and for the past
six months he had trusted her with keys.
"I don't see any reason now why
your arrival should interrupt me in any way. You may let yourself in and find
me. I shall take things from there," he had told her.
She duly let herself in and went
into her ritual.
Once inside the door she put her
bag down and retrieved her collar from it then buckled it firmly around her
neck. It was her pride and joy, soft leather with hand sewn cushioning at the
top and bottom so that it couldn't chafe her when buckled on tight. And she
liked things buckled and tied tight, it was the physical confirmation that she
had no control over what was to happen to her and that excited her. The wrist
cuffs were the same; comfortable and tight.
Once she had them on, she pulled
her sweater off, smoothed down her hair and then removed her bra but retained
her skirt, stockings and shoes. Those had been her orders for today. The
putting on of collar and cuffs immediately she set foot inside the house was
the permanent core of the ritual, the rest varied on each occasion. Once she
had had to strip completely and go upstairs and stand behind a lace curtain
overlooking the street and masturbate with the vibrator he kept for her, until
he returned home from shopping.