Mature Slave
by Jimbob the Brit
She gazed at her naked body and wondered if he would find it attractive. Could
she go through with it? Their exchange of letters had been weekly for the last
four months. The man who she'd only seen in a photograph knew her sexually
better than even her husband. Here she was, her twentieth wedding anniversary
just around the corner, contemplating adultery for the first time in her life.
Her heart was fluttering with a nervous dread and anticipation she hadn't felt
since her first experience with a boy.
As she wrapped the corset around herself she felt her whole body begin to shake
like a leaf. Her fingers were trembling so much she had difficulty aligning the
hooks that ran down the front. The laces were hard to tighten and she struggled
to pull the edges of the corset closed. She had to have them closed otherwise he
said in his letter he'd punish her. Her mind went off at a tangent as though
shying away from the thought of what she was planning to do. Gone were the days
when she had a twenty-one inch waist. When ordering the corset from the
specialist manufacturer, she ought to really have been a little more honest.
Looking down at her full breasts as they rose and fell in a desperate effort to
get air into her lungs she noted her nipples were already erect. Partly no doubt
as a result of the corsets constriction and partly due to nerves. Her breasts
too, she thought, had changed from those days of her youth, they'd been small
and pert then. The remembered and never forgotten pain flared at the memory of
the long gone baby she'd suckled for more than twelve months before the perfect
little daughter called Jane had caught and died of meningitis. The return to
dancing after that horrible time had been a means of burying the pain, a pain
made worst by the terrible knowledge that after the hard labour she'd endured to
bring forth her darling she was told she could never have another child. A
permanent reminder of her lost child were her breasts, they had remained full
with large nipples, and if they stopped her getting to the top as a dancer they
at least ensured she was never unemployed.
The corset was excruciatingly tight but it was not yet closed. What could she
do? Inspiration came to her. Naked save for her half laced corset she went
downstairs and through the internal door into the garage. With Dave away there
was no car to block access to his heavy workbench. Tying the ends of the excess
laces together she looped it around the handle of the big vice he used for his
metalwork. Then leaning forward she appeared to attempt to tow the bench across
the garage floor. The floor was gritty under her feet and she regretted not
stopping to put some slippers or shoes on. She wriggled as she pulled and slowly
the corset pulled tighter until the edges met, even slightly overlapped and it
would tighten no more. The air in the garage was chill but the effort had
ensured her body was hot and sweaty. Carefully she maintained the tension on the
laces as she unhitched them from the vice handle and then tied them of neatly
around her now clamped waist.
Reflections of her body now with a wasp waist entranced her as she made her way
back to her bedroom. Her tits and bum seemed huge now. Would he like this mature
well rounded woman or would he just think of her as some poor sad fat bitch!
She'd had to wash her feet after her experience in the garage, that and the
effort of pulling on her stockings had forced her to rest for a few minutes to
let her body regain its composure. It had helped for she seemed to have, at
least partially, gained the knack of breathing with the upper portion of her
lungs rather like an opera singer. The stiletto heeled shoes had four and a half
inch heels and by the time though she'd managed to buckle the ankle straps, she
realised she had a lot more acclimatising to do, for she was breathless again.
Getting herself used to their height by walking around the room made her realise
it was a forgotten skill. In her days in the chorus she had often worn shoes of
such a height though so it was probably like riding a bike. Your body never
forgot, it just got a bit rusty. The mirror showed her well rounded body back to
her. Well her well rounded arse wasn't as small and boyish as it used to be by a
long chalk but then it now balanced her heavy breasts. Her waist looked tiny in
the corset and though it was still hard to breathe she was finding it easier.
Could she really go through with this? She felt her trembling start again. She
hadn't complied with all his instructions. One had been to have all her pubic
hair removed by waxing. She'd had it done to the bikini line but then
embarrassment had overcome her. Equally she knew she was going to disobey him
with regard to the bra and panties. She just had to wear them. The thought of
how her big bouncing boobs would look when she moved or the display she would
give were she to fall off her stilettos was just too horrible to contemplate.
The black semi translucent blouse showed more than a hint of creamy skin and the
black bra was clearly discernable she blushed to think what would have shown had
she not disobeyed him and gone bra less. She smoothed the black tight fitting
skirt over her fleshy hips then turned to examine her rear view in the mirror.
At least, she thought, the G string ensured there was no panty line visible! God
her butt seemed huge in contrast to her tight bound waist. The wide bright gilt
belt around her waist emphasised its constriction and made her look almost
cartoon like in exaggeration. The trembling had yet to stop and still she
wondered if she could go through with this. Did her relationship with her
husband leave her so unfulfilled? He was after all a kind if absent minded
spouse. So she couldn't remember the last time he'd made love to her. Not that
he'd ever been fantastic in that department but at least in the earlier days of
their marriage he'd made her laugh. And he had given her Jane hadn't he? She'd
never regretted having Jane even though she'd been snatched so wickedly. She
looked deep inside herself. She was forty one, she had a good job with
responsibility, she had a stable, if mind numbing marriage, a lovely home. Was
she prepared to risk all of this to satisfy a sexual need, a sexual fantasy?
This night, or even the whole weekend could be a disaster but she couldn't walk
away from the opportunity to live life to the full for once.
He was early. Excitement filled him and forced him to arrive to soon. The gin
and tonic he'd ordered to calm his nerves cried out for companions but he knew
that he dare not risk having too many drinks. He watched the door of the bar
open and her walk in. He knew it was her he recognised her from her photograph.
What the photograph hadn't prepared him for was the life and vitality that
seemed to spark from her. The dark coat she wore against the evenings chills
concealed what her body looked like or how many of his orders she'd complied
with but instinctively he knew he wasn't going to be disappointed.
"Let me take your coat." It wasn't a request but an order. Blushing she slipped
the loose fitting coat from her shoulders. His heart raced and he fought to keep
his excitement from showing in his voice or on his face. Mature but with few
wrinkles or lines in her fine white complexion, her big brown eyes were set in a
face that glowed with health and her lips were ripe and full. Her well rounded
body was plumpish yet the flesh shapely and firm packed. The way and manner in
which she moved showed muscles that had been kept supple and trim. Her waist was
well corseted indeed and her breast showed clearly through the material of her
blouse. Or rather they would have done. "Your wearing a bra." He looked her
directly into the eyes his voice showing only anger and disapproval. "You know
what that will mean don't you girl." His face was as the photo had shown but
like him she was startled by reality. Ordinary enough in appearance but his well
kept body belied his fifty odd years and gave him a presence that no photograph
could capture.
"Yes - master." The words came out in a whisper that only he could hear and he
thrilled again to hear her say that word.
She could fill her pulse thump in her ears and could feel her tight corset
creak. Master! It was how she thought of him, how she fantasised but there, she
had said it!
"Well what does happen to naughty slaves girl?"
"There spanked or whipped master." Was this what she really wanted? What she'd
come all this way for? To be used and abused by some strong man?
"Good at least you've got that right." He fixed her with his cold grey eye
again. A smile hovered around the corners of his mouth. "We've a lot to talk
about. Would you like a drink?"
"A vodka and tonic please." Suddenly she was aware of just how dry her mouth
was.
"Ok and whilst I'm getting it you can go and take of the bra and anything else
your wearing that you shouldn't be."
If her mouth had been dry before now it was desert like, yet already she had
lost herself in her fantasy, his presence had overwhelmed freewill. In the
toilets she slipped her blouse down and quickly removed her bra. With difficulty
in the close confines of the WC she slipped her skirt down and removed her G
string. She felt hot and yet excited already her pussy was leaking arousal. In
the mirror her well defined aureoles were clearly visible through the fabric of
her blouse and her big rubbery teats stuck out like organ stops. The bar was lit
by subdued lighting but even so she knew everything would be visible when she
returned to, - her master. Slipping the bra and panties into her handbag she
left the toilet. The short passage leading back to the bar was uncarpeted and
her heels rang on the stone flags she was aware as never before how her breasts
moved and wobbled.
He was waiting at the table, her drink in front of her seat. She sat down, her
full heavy breasts swaying seductively as she did so, feeling his eyes hot on
her body. "That's better." He reached across the table and caressed her already
erect nipple, gripping its fullness through her blouse. Her breath came out in
shuddering gasp. "Now let me have the offending articles." She wanted to refuse
but somehow dare not. He made no attempt to hide what he was taking from her and
she dare not look around to see who was looking. "Tch, tch. You are building up
black marks aren't you." He took a sip of his drink and she did likewise, hiding
her embarrassment behind the glass.
"I"ve decided that to spend too much time discussing your submission at any
great length would be wasteful of our time." He looked her directly in the eyes
and seemed to change the subject. "Is you cunt wet slut." She coloured at his
crudity but could not lie.
"Yes - master." She'd used that phrase again.
"That confirms my point girl." She, a mature, responsible woman with a highly
paid position in her company should have felt belittled by his continued
referral to her as girl but it only pleased her. "The only conversation about
this weekend we will have is whether you come with me or not. If at this time
you decide not I will wish you well, see you to your car and leave your life
forever." His eyes were boring into her again and she felt a weak and helpless,
and yet as sexual a woman as never before . "If however you are truly a
submissive and come with me there will be no going back until the weekend is
over." Her vagina felt hot as never before and though she trembled there was not
a hint of hesitation as she drained her drink and said.
"Use me as you will master."
He led her from the bar carrying her coat over his arm. "Stand proud girl. Show
off those beautiful udders." There was degradation in the manner in which he
spoke to her but pride also that he should think her beautiful.
They collected her case from her car then left it in the car park to be
collected later. In the shadows beside his car he made her take off her skirt An
excitement took possession of her at the thought of another car pulling in and
revealing her bare arsed in the headlights. It didn't happen but the thought
once started filled her with delight. He pulled her to him and as her breasts
were crushed against his chest his hands cupped and kneaded her buttocks. Strong
arms lifted her to sit on the ice cold bonnet. "Spread those thighs slut."
Obedience was abrogation of responsibility. Lack of responsibility made her the
ideal receptacle of pleasure. "Oh dear what's this gross hairiness? You really
are building up a deficit." He let her slide from the bonnet once he'd fingered
and explored her intimate parts. The slap was loud and stinging making her
squeal in surprise. "Come into the car bitch." The leather of the seat was cold
on her full buttocks but she made no complaint, welcoming the cold on her heated
cheek where she felt as though she could feel the hot impression of each finger.
The road was dark and she sat her legs sprawled apart to allow him access to her
slot. The fire was filling her. "Suckle my prick girl, it will give me pleasure
whilst I drive." There was a silence in the car and not sure whether her
ignorance of oral sex or dislike of what she was being ordered to do that made
her uncertain.
"I-I"ve never done it before."
"Well now seems an appropriate time to learn girl."
It was difficult to get her head down on his lap her corset was so tight. She
unzipped his flies and eased his already erect cock free. Her nostrils were
filled with the scent of expensive cologne and man, her mouth watered. His cock
filled it to bursting and as she suckled, his hand freed a tit and began to
fondle. She revelled in what she was commanded to do enjoying the taste of him
in her mouth. It was difficult tight corseted as she was, laid sideways on the
seat her right hand trapped between her thighs So she used it to pleasure her
liquid drenched grotto as her other cupped his balls.
The journey seemed over all too quick, the sensation as they bumped up on the
drive warned that they had reached their destination. "Up slut. We're here." He
was casual about the way he pulled free of her hot mouth, she was after all only
a receptacle for his pleasure. He carried her coat and skirt. She was forced to
carry her own case. The chill air made her wet quim colder still and she could
feel the goose bumps rise on breast and buttock. Everything seemed on the move
as she walked unsteadily over the shifting gravel.
The house was quite large, the hall was brightly lit and warm. As she stood
looking around, bare buttocks and boobs exposed, he hadn't given her time to
button her blouse and it had seemed superfluous at the time, a woman of late
middle age walked into the hall.
"Eeek!" She tried to cover herself with her small case but it was the wrong size
to be effective. A ringing slap landed on her unmarked cheek making her jump and
jiggle.
"Don't be stupid girl it's only Mrs Bennet my house keeper. After all slave your
going to be kept to busy being whipped tied and tormented to look after me
aren't you." There was a distorted logic but still she protested at being
displayed and used in front of the other woman.
"I want to go home!"
"The time for leaving bitch was when you were in the bar. Its far too late now."
Another ringing slap refreshed the marks on her other buttock. "Mrs Bennet bring
the gag please. She obviously needs a little control imposed."
She was weeping at the pain of her hard slapped bottom when he pushed the large
ball against her mouth. She opened it to protest and it half entered. The strap
tightening forced her to accept it full home and the strap was locked tight
around her head. Now the only sound that could escape her was a low keening.
"We might as well get her started Mrs Bennet so perhaps you would take her into
the living room and prepare her across the stool. You can then take her case
upstairs and prepare us supper whilst I wipe her slate clean. She has been a
disobedient slave." Mrs Bennet took hold of her wrist and led her at a fast tit
jiggling walk into the lounge.
"It will be better if you just do as your told. He'll only get annoyed and add
to the number of stripes you'll get." The handsome middle aged woman peered into
her tear filled eyes with mild curiosity. "Though I suppose that's just what you
want isn't it girl?"
The centre of the room had been cleared save for a tall stool. Mrs Bennet made
her stand so that her crotch pushed against its flat seat then quickly strapped
each of her legs to those of the stool at knee and ankle so that she was forced
to stand legs slightly apart. She rested her hands on the padded top and leant
forward slightly. With her legs virtually welded to those of the stool she had a
fear of falling backwards.
"Its a good job your nipples are well developed it makes this far easier." The
conversational tone was just like that of her own cleaner when she 'did' for her
and for a moment it made her feel distinctly disoriented and at odds with the
bizarre sexual predicament she had put herself into. Mrs Bennet was tying cords
around her nipples. Not painfully tight but already her teats were swelling at
the constriction. "Now your bra dear." She recognised it's type from
advertisements in magazines. A selection of straps that fitted around her
breasts, the ropes that went over her shoulders had cuffs fitted at their ends.
If she were to struggle the ropes would make the bra tighten around each full
boob. It was as Mrs Bennet locked the cuffs around each wrist though she
realised that this bra was of a completely different quality to those she had
seen advertised. Not only were the straps smoother and more substantial but also
the cuffs locked instead of buckled, and the rope was much shorter so that to
get her wrists cuffed Mrs Bennet had to cross them high up her back. Already as
she tried to ease her hands down to a slightly more comfortable position she
could feel her tits being constricted. "I think he paid quite a lot of money for
this bra dear. It even has a ratchet so that when the ropes tighten around your
titties they wont loosen if you manage to raise your wrists again." She was
almost whinnying around her gag. It had been nearly impossible to keep her wrist
so high up her back and now her breasts felt as though they were going to
explode. "Almost there now love." The loose ends of the string hanging from her
throbbing nipples were pulled down so she was forced to bend across the seat of
the stool. Her corset kept her back straight and so all movement was from the
hips making her buttocks tighten and round magnificently. The housekeeper didn't
stop pulling until the poor slave thought her nipples would be wrenched from her
breasts.
"Well done Mrs Bennet. Thank you. Off you go now. I'll call you when your
needed." She felt his fingers stoking her shoulders then her full rounded
buttocks. Three fingers delved between her fleshy lips and made her grunt but he
had no difficulty exploring her depths for her pussy was wet and welcoming. She
tried to look at him but it was too uncomfortable, she could only contemplate
her own big breasts with their overstretched teats. His left hand continued its
manipulations as his right unlocked her gag and he eased it from between her
aching jaws.
"Aggghhh!" Her moan was soft and low but heartfelt nonetheless.
"This is my little warmer." A plaited quirt was thrust under her face. "Its duty
is to warm you ready for punishment or remind you that you skirt the bounds of
punishment. It doesn't hurt badly." It was used across her full cheeks making
her jerk. He was right the quirt was painful but easily bearable. Her nipples
ached like crazy now though for there was not much elasticity left in them
tensioned as they were by Mrs Bennet's scrupulous bondage so jerking was a
reaction to punishment best avoided. "Unless you bring it down with considerable
force." The sound of it whistling through the air allowed herself to brace
herself so the jerk against her anchoring nipples was relatively minor. The pain
spreading across her buttocks wasn't.
For the next five minutes he warmed her. Never as hard as that warning blow.
Always bearable but sufficient to make her bottom, and her breast which received
their share, glow a bright red. Her screams had been loud and she'd begged for
mercy and release.
"Enough, enough. Please let me go." Her voice was husky, made incomprehensible
by the gag but he knew by her tone what she was saying. Tears filled her eyes.
"But my dear I told you that once you agreed to come with me there could be no
going back." His fingers delved afresh. "And anyway your pussy does seem to be
enjoying the experience. The moan that came from her mimicked those her warming
had wrought from her. "You do appear to be extremely close to achieving your
first orgasm of torment." He sniffed the wetness drenching his hand. "Or is it
your first slut?" There was no answer she only moaned anew.
"Now how many stroke do you think you should receive for every disobedience?
Remember, panties, bra, pubic hair, and of course begging to leave after you had
agreed to stay the weekend." He undid the straps holding her gag in and eased it
from her mouth. "Remember that now you know what to expect you should be able to
manage without this!" Hw waved the saliva sodden gag under her nose.
"F-f-our!" She knew he would continue to punish her no matter how she begged,
begging would only add to her punishment so she had to co-operate in her ordeal.
"That sounds fare. Sixteen strokes in total." She squealed in horror. That was
not what she had meant but dare not tell him so. "Now so you can't accuse me of
being unfair I should tell you that I expect you to thank me after each stroke
and that you ask me for the next. If you forget to thank me, ask for the next or
lose count of the stroke, or scream, another stroke will be added to the total."
The corset, tight as it was helped support her position across the stool. The
perversity of her nature was such that she'd enjoyed its constriction. Her hips,
dancer trained had no difficulty maintaining her position. Her hands had come
lower down her back as the bra straps tightened, making that part of her bondage
easier to endure. The same could not be said about her now throbbing breasts. As
those same straps constricted her breasts they became swollen and throbbed.
Similarly her nipples, abused by the cords tightened by her involuntary jerking
against the pain of the quirt across buttock or tit, engorged to match their
mounts. And yet, and yet, her body drank in her abuse and her thighs were
drenched with her juices.
"Ough!" Her voice rose an octave. A hot mouth had fastened on her wet tumescent
clit.
He'd looked down at her well rounded and scarlet arse, finding it good. Her
labia, displayed in full arousal between her taught muscular thighs were like
the mature lips of a clam. He would most definitely have to whip those before
the weekend was over. First though, he thought, some encouragement for his toy.
Her love bud was hard between his teeth and she was obviously climaxing. All
pain and discomfort forgotten the orgasm was massive.
Straining to look back she saw him wiping her juices from his mouth as he stood.
Her legs felt as though all strength had gone from them yet never had her body
felt more sensitive or alive. The strain forced her to resume her head down
position and she could only look at her swollen purple tits. They looked as
though the straps were about to make them explode. Strong fingers appeared
before her eyes and began to untie her teats.
"This is the time you prove your obedience girl." She heard the swish of the
cane through the air as he loosened his muscles, and knowing there was no escape
braced herself for what was to come.
The first stripe cut square across both her buttocks branding them with a line
of fire. "Unghhh!" The breath left her lungs in a whoosh leaving no air to
scream or protest. There was a purity about the pain that in her sensitised
state raised her to new levels of awareness. In a trembling voice she spoke her
line.
"Thank you master. May I have a second stroke?" The next stripe cut her in the
crease where buttock joined thigh. She thought for an instant she would die but
then the orgasm commenced.
"Thank you master. May I have a third stroke?" The orgasm deepened and she
wanted more. By the time he had reached twelve her thighs and buttocks were
cross hatched with red wheals and pain had ceased to have meaning. Her nipples
coming back to life, as blood flowed back into them, was in beautiful if painful
counterpoint to her fiery striped butt. When the last six where applied to her
breasts, a further two had been gained when he changed the site of punishment
and she reared upright in shock before she could control herself, she thought
she would die of pained pleasure. A lighter cane was used for these but she
wasn't aware of this. If the new area of pain delayed the roll of her orgasm, by
the second application of fiery stripe it deepened it.
"Thank you master. May I have a, - nineteenth stroke?" She had almost forgotten
how many she'd received. Her voice was a whisper but the sentiment was genuine.
He had taken her to a place in her soul where few are able or want to go but
where she found glorious fulfilment.
She stood by his side still corseted but now with her hands cuffed comfortably
behind her back. Her breasts and buttocks glowed a tender vivid red marked with
stripes of an even deeper red. The marking was perfect not one stroke of his
cane had broken her tender skin. Every now and then she would bunny dip to allow
him to feed her some supper. When upright she stood her feet slightly apart to
allow him easy access to her vagina when he wished.
"Am I, are we, perverted?" He looked startled at her question.
"What a foolish question girl. We just are. We take pleasure in what we are. I
in my domination of you. You in your submission to me. Your role is to submit in
all things to me and in so doing find total freedom to experience what you crave
and need in pain and subjugation of self. Mine is to take and control you
totally, yet to truly be in control I must tie myself ultimately to protecting
you. From yourself and the world. I am your prison and your protection. The
responsibility that this encompasses means I can never truly be free. Who is the
slave, who the master?"
His suckled a bruised and tender teat, it made her twist and want to tear away
from his demanding mouth yet she resisted and found pleasure in his actions.
"To-morrow you can go to the beauty parlour and have the rest of your disgusting
bush removed."
"But master they will see my stripes."
"What does that matter to me bitch?"
"Nothing master, nothing."
She sat gingerly on the plastic seat considering all the sensations she had
experienced in the last fifteen or so hours. The thick material of her knee
length skirt gave some padding to her tender bum but not a lot. She wasn't quite
sure which sensation took precedence. The thought of embarrassment had in fact
been worst than the real thing. The girl who had removed the remainder of her
pubic hair, had gone bug eyed at the marks left by the cane on her full round
arse when she'd removed her skirt but had said nothing. The beautician was being
paid too much for her services to comment. When she'd knelt and spread her
buttocks so that the girl could spread the hot wax spread around her anus she
had blushed vividly at the close inspection she must be allowing of her
liberally marked bottom but still the girl had kept quiet. Apart from a soft
little "Oh!" of surprise and a soft brush of fingers across her tender globes.
Now as she waited for her coffee she was conscious of the mild burning that was
the reminder of the depilated condition of her pussy. It added to her awareness,
if she weren't exactly aroused, there was a persistent moist readiness for full
arousal. The coffee arrived and she reached forward to take up a cup, her arm
brushed across her bra less breasts and that too was a reminder of her abused
and tormented state. She'd dreaded today, the knowledge of further degradation
that would excite her and the torment that would inevitably follow.
He was on time to collect her. As he sat by her side he indicated to the
waitress that he too would like coffee.
"Are you fully prepared now." His hand reached out and gently touched the side
of her tender breast. She felt desire flicker.
"Yes master." It was a whisper that only he could hear.
"Good we've two days and two whole nights of pleasure before us. We must make
the most of it." She thought of her whipping and the night in his bed, her hands
locked together at the end of a slack chain above her head, her legs held
similarly apart. She'd been able to move but not protect herself. He'd made her
scream and squeal as he fucked her to several further orgasms.
"Until the next time master."
"Yes slut until the next time." He smiled to himself. He had indeed found at
last his perfect slave. His hand, concealed by the tablecloth, slid under her
skirt, along her stocking clad legs, caressed the soft silken flesh of her naked
inner thigh and found her quim. Three fingers were pushed into her now tender
pussy but she only thrust her hips forward as best she could, corseted as she
was, and squirmed to get them deeper still. Swiftly her vagina became wet with
desire. They'd had only begun this first weekend together and already she was
talking about the next time.
