Introduction
She twirled the lock of long blonde hair that had brazenly come loose from the mass of shining platinum hair held in a bun on top of her head; the stay lock framed her beautiful face, accentuating the high cheek bones, full lustful lips and smouldering blue gray eyes. “Why have you come” she asks with a willowy voice, her German accent adding heavy eroticism to a simple enquiry. Her long fingers fondle the soft leather fob of the riding crop as she waits for my reply. “I have come with a proposal for you Frau Heike”.
“Sit “she commends and points with the crop to the chair across the table from where she is enjoying morning coffee. She is wearing a long black leather dress with a zippered split allowing her to cross her stockinged legs. My eyes are drawn along her shapely calf encased in a black leather boot, my eyes caress her slim ankles as my body shivers somewhere deep inside at the 15cm stiletto heal and my penis throbs with arousal as I follow along her foot to the pointed toe of her boot. “Sit” she commands and taps the table confidently with crop. She smiles at me and my heart skips a beat. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever dreamed of. Her dress has long sleeves and a high collar, it is skin tight and shows every sensual curve as the shiny black leather moulds itself to her womanly form; her round breasts are punctuated with tantalizingly small buttons where her nipples are, revealing how thin the leather is.
I manage, with some effort, to break her spell. “Thank you for seeing me Frau Heike” I say as I unbutton my suit jacket and take the offered seat “Just Heike, please” she replies. “Heike (and I bow my head imperceptibly to acknowledge the allowance of informality), I have visited your website and frankly I’m very impressed, the presentation is classy and while highlighting your sexuality it does not cheapen you in the slightest“. “Danka, that is the intent” she replies as she lifts the coffee cup to her lips, I notice again the fullness and how the lip gloss and liner have been applied with such attention to detail, so that the shape is defined more vividly, I watch her slim neck as she swallows the coffee and follow down to her shapely breasts. “Heike, I have been looking for a site with just such a character to share my erotic writing, my intent is to write about you”. She smiles that frightening seductive smile and says “I have read your work and I feel that it is not the style or for that matter the standard that I want on my site” She puts down her coffee cup and her fingers curl round the shaft of the riding crop, I think to myself, she loves that thing. “Heike I have written for specific people, I have written what they wanted and in the style they responded to. Once I understand you style I will write in that style but for now let me demonstrate what I think you will like. Will you allow me to tell you a story? ”She raises the riding crop and with the soft fob she brushes that wanton lock of blond hair away from her cheek, she leans back in the chair and I see how the leather has moulded round the bottom of her breasts and the famine contours of the stomach, I take in the curve of her slim waist and maternal hips; this is not the body of a girl but of a goddess. “Begin” she simply states but from her lips it is an invitation to enter a world of dark lust, sophisticated desires and undeniable fetishes.
I begin......You are in a street market and are drawn to a stall selling brick-a brack by the sun reflecting of shiny patent leather, there are boxes of assorted leather goods, as you finger through the items, jackets, pants, gloves, you pause, a shiny red mask, matching G string and bra, skirt, vest and in the bottom .... boots. All are meticulously polished and appear shiny new, “how much for these” you ask and the stall holder turns to you. He is a striking man in his forties, short greying beard and striking blue eyes, his 2 meter plus frame is clad in a well cut Italian tan coloured leather suit, the single button jacket shows his triangular chest with broad shoulders and trim waist. He looks at you knowingly “Mein Frau only 80 Euros but you may find more to your liking here” from under the table he lifts a box and places it in front of you. He reverently lifts out leather whips of the softest calf leather, wrist and ankle cuffs with long tethers, corsets and garter belts all made of the softest, high gloss polished leather. “Where do you get this stuff” you ask “I make a living from associating with those that have a refined appreciation of leather goods. I was a buyer for a fashion house, travelling the continent from Florence and Milan, Budapest, Moscow, London sourcing the finest leather goods, I meet many people with exotic tastes and some even erotic.”
There is a long pause while you contemplate the statement. “I would like to meet such people also” you reply. “That could be arranged” he says as he hands you his business card, it simply has his name Master Jack Winter, mobile phone number and email address, “why don’t you call me and we can discuss how such a meeting could be arranged”, you turn the card over in your long slim fingers and your red nails flash in the sunlight, the back of the card simply says “Leather” in embossed lettering. “OK, I will think about it, so how much for the red outfit and the kinky stuff all together” you ask “For you, my dear, 100 euro, as I think you will be a good customer” you reach into your bag and look in to find your purse, your long blonde hair falls across your long slim and shapely arm, from your purse you fish out 2 notes, as you hand them to him you notice that familiar stare, he is looking directly into your eyes, you are used to having men in your spell like this, for all the times it happens you don’t know how you feel about it, flattered always, bothered some times, do they see me or just what I look like, you ask yourself. He takes the money and asks if you would like help to your car, You are so used to this attention and service it is part of the reason you dress the way you do, apart from your love of the sensual feel and the way the clothes mould themselves to your perfect body, it is also the power it gives you, men come under your spell and while some women do too, most despise you, hating you for the effect you have on men and their own, more deeply hidden desires. You love that hate, the way they look at you, you think of that saying – Love me or hate me but don’t ignore me. You say “yes I will need help to get these things to my car” but to your surprise he calls on a young girl who is sorting and polishing leather goods at the back of the stall. “Rommey, please help this lady to her car with her purchase” The girl stands you did not notice her squatting hunched over a box of leather goods with a polishing cloth in her hand. She is tall and slim in a black leather suit with a red lace bodice, her hair is held in a black leather Carnaby cap but a blond pony tail hangs to her shoulder. She reminds you of a teenage version of yourself, she smiles at you and a connection is instantly made, her eyes blaze brightly and you feel a tightening in your tummy. You show her your purchases and she follows with them to your car.
You lift the trunk lid and she places the boxes in the trunk, as she bends over you notice her round bottom each cheek perfectly outlined by the shining leather, you resist the urge to smack it. As she stands you ask “is Mr Winter your father” “no Madam, he was my guardian but now he is my Master” she states as if it is a common term, “Your master, what do you mean” you ask “madam, I am sure you understand, he is the person that looks after me, in return I do his bidding” she turns and walks away on long legs with feline grace, she is wearing sensible black heels, the pants are zippered at the back to mould to her calves and the jacket is cut to accentuate her narrow waist and flared hips the split tails of the jacket finish at a tangent to the curve of my rolling bottom, that suit is tailor made, you think to yourself, what an intriguing couple.
Chapter 1
You arrive home eager to try on your new purchases. As you open the trunk you notice Rommey’s perfume clinging to your purchase, it is not strong in fact you did not notice it at the time when you were standing next to her at the car, it was so subtle yet left an indelible impression. It resonates with the smell of the leather, hinting at musk but something else, it eludes you and hovers out of reach. You contemplate the smell as you carry the boxes up the stairs to your bedroom. As you enter your realm you can’t help but admire yourself in the full length mirror. You are wearing jeans for a change, with black knee length stiletto boots, black leather jacket and a plain white designer T-shirt, minimal but so effective, it doesn’t over power your natural beauty, your hair is out with full spiral curls tapering at your back, you turn to admire them and instead take in the curve of your bum, you smack it and think of Rommey bending over. You unzip the cuffs of your sleeve and take of the jacket, you admire your perfect breasts as you lift off your t-shirt, you are wearing a white lift-up satin bra, the type with perfect round cups that hold your breast in a lovers embrace, you caress your face with your hand and trace down your neck to the top of your breast, oh to be a teenager again – you think. You sit on the bed and take of the boots, always a struggle, much easier with someone to help you, as your boot comes off you savour the deeply personal smell, that not unpleasant musky smell that your body extrudes continuously but gets concentrated in tight clothing, especially when wearing latex or plastic. You stand and unbutton your jeans admiring your flat tummy and as you lower them over your hips your white satin panties come down with them, exposing your plump pubic mound and the start of the cleft between your smooth naked labia, you pause and hook the sides of your panties with your thumbs to pull them off with you jeans, as you step out of them you can’t help but watch in the mirror as your full plump labia part revealing your inner flesh, pink and glistening with wetness, you are always wet these days. You stand and compliment yourself on the shape you are in, as you unclip your bra, your C cup breasts are still firm and perky for a women your age, the daily workouts and swimming are doing the job, you smile to yourself.
Your skin has a nice even tan at this time of year, you run your hands over your breasts pinching the nipple gently and rubbing them softly between your fingers, a soft purring moan escapes without intent , followed by a sigh as your hands caress your belly and thighs, you brush your mound with your finger tips, a butterflies kiss, you can’t resist and your finger explores your cleft briefly, so wet and warm – god I don’t have time for this again – you say to yourself, sometimes you think you are becoming obsessed with a sex, a nymphomaniac. You look at your clothes strewn on the floor and box of red leather clothes and implements, you laugh aloud, of course you are obsessed!
You squat and explore the box of red leather, first the G string, you examine it, perfectly clean and unblemished you pull it on and adjust the fit in your groin enjoying the sensational texture of the leather on your sensitive inner flesh, you look in the mirror and the gusset has conformed to your labia and your cleft is clearly defined in shiny red leather, you feel a tingling deep inside you. Next the bra, a little small, your breast swell over the top of the cups, you take in the view, turning and looking over your shoulder to see in the mirror, you enjoy the way your hair tapers down to your bottom pointing to the T-bar of the string and the smooth round mounds of your buttocks You slip into the mini skirt, watching your hair hang down as you bend to zip it, finally the vest, it fits perfectly matching the line of the bra, you are thrilled with your overflowing breasts. The outfit is perfect, better then you hoped.
You look in the box of implements, your fingers curl round the shaft of one of the whips, it feels so delightfully obscene in your hand the leather wrapping is smooth but with indentations that summon your fingers, there is no hint of a seam and the end is bluntly rounded but with the leather folded back on itself – good lord, it is made to resemble a large black uncircumcised penis – the nine thongs that hang from the end are not knotted and are as soft a chamois, you flick it with a deft twitch of your wrist and the nine tails wickedly caress your thigh. Next you examine the cuffs they lace up with the tethers so it is easy to pull them on then pull the tether laces tight and tie the ends to the bed posts or a frame, you put them aside for later. A white leather riding crop, your favourite toy, you play with the soft leather fob then expertly twirl it in your fingers like a baton, you throw it in the air and catch it perfectly in your hand , the balance and weight is good, you watch in the mirror as you bend over and your mini pulls up to reveal your bare bum cheeks, you slap your bottom with the crop to test the effect – oh yes this will do nicely – you think as you give yourself a harder slap for good measure, leaving a satisfying red mark on you golden velvety skin. You stroke the cleft of your bum with the crop down to your perineum, you lightly flick it with the fob and then continue to stroke along the cleft of your pussy, over the shiny red leather, hummmmm – stop it Heike, don’t get distracted – you say to yourself, you continue your search of the box, you put aside two leather corsets one black with ribbing the other light tan, smooth and skin coloured – I will play with them later. The garter belt matches what you have on, in patent red leather, you step into it and lift your skirt as you fit it with hooks and turn it so the fastener are at the back, as you lower the skirt the clips hang exactly at the hem.
You notice the funny little red leather mask, it was what first grabbed your attention, you threw it on the bed in a rush to try on the clothes – what wicked fun these items have seen – you think; it is the type of mask that covers the eyes and top of the nose moulded to the shape of your face and held in place by felt covered arms like sunglasses. You try it on, slipping the arms under your hair and over your ears, the mask conforms to your face perfectly, you look at the mirror and it fits your cute nose and high cheeks perfectly, you feel a wave of giddiness a blurring of your vision, you look in the mirror again but something is different, you don’t remember putting on the boots, they are full length and fasten to the garter belt. You look down but the mask blocks your vision you lift it off and look down – there are no boots - you look in the mirror again – and frown, no boots, you put the mask back on almost expecting the boots to appear again but nothing – how odd. You look in the box and there the boots are at the very bottom, right where you left them. You lift them out and indeed that are full length with buttons at the top to fasten the garter straps to. To pick up the mask again, turning it in your long supple fingers and you caress the leather taking in it’s smooth soft texture, the leather is polished to a deep liquid shine, you pensively try them on again, nothing happens, you look in the mirror and they just make you nose look cute and finish of the outfit in a very provocative way. You leave them on and pick up the boots, they have a zip from the heel to the knee you unzip it and they look brand new inside, you try them on, firstly you put your foot through the thigh cuff, your red toe nail polish matches the colour of the leather, and bring the cuff up along your calf, over your knee and up your thigh, you bend down to do up the zip and glance in the mirror – hummmm, the way my hair hangs down and my breasts swell – you are pleased with yourself as you zip up the boot and stretch out your leg, you like what you see. You repeat the action this time without the glance in the mirror and finish by clipping the garter belt to the top of the boots, you stand and admire the outfit in the mirror picking a matching red whip from the other box, it is rather comical, almost a naughty version of Little Bo Peep from someone’s perverted costume ball. You walk around in the stiletto boots, it all feels comfortable, as through the outfit was made for you, the boots are skin tight and the cut of the vest fits you perfectly, more importantly it’s cut accentuates the curve of your breasts, the skirt is short, revealing your bum at the slightest bow. You slap your thigh with the crop of the whip satisfyingly.
You watch in the mirror as you involuntarily start massaging you breasts the desire to do this is over powering, you groan as you squeeze them harder. You open the vest as a giddying lust envelopes you, you rub your nipples through the bra with the stock of the whip, the cross plated thong weave of the stock has a delicious texture that is transmitted through the thin leather to your puffing areole and hardening nipple, you can’t control the desire, the lust, to pull the cup of the bra down, your perfect breast slowly spilling down, you cup it and bending your head down low you rub the nipple on your lips – oh that lovely tingling – you kiss it, caress the areole with your tongue it is swollen and puffy now just like when you were a teenager, you suck on the nipple and bite it gently. The overwhelming lust is felt in your pelvis and you feel a warm, velvety, tickling, wetness in your groin. With the palm of the other hand your massage your pudenda covered with the thin leather thong – god my pussy is so in need - with your finger nail you trace the cleft in the thong where it moulds to your cleft of Venus, the sensation makes you shiver and you close your eyes...... in your imagination a man kneels at your feet, his head hung in submission, in your mind’s eye you can’t see his face but you can see his muscled ebony back and a thick mane of curling black hair, he is on all fours now licking your booted foot, you almost feel the sensation of his tongue through the leather. Obeying an unspoken command he moves to your ankle and up the side of your calf, his head between your legs, the thick pressure of his tongue feels so real you abandon yourself to this dream like state. You comb your fingers through his hair, grabbing a handful at the nap of his neck you pull his avid attention higher along the inside of your thigh, you squeeze his head between your thighs and from some distance you hear yourself cry out an indistinct word, the meaning hangs at the edge of awareness but your lust won’t allow you to focus on it. With both hands now you pull this strangers face to your leather enclosed pussy, his tongue slips over the shiny leather as his hands grip your outer thighs and you gyrate your hips then thrust yourself against his thick wet tongue, feeling it’s heat and touch through the leather. As if commanded by you his thumbs hook the side strings of your thong and pull it down, now his tongue fulfils your need, it’s exquisite dance is matched by your grinding gyrating hips. His rhythm and pressure are so in sync with your own the pleasure it mounts quickly to a point where your legs give way under you and you collapse, sitting on the bed. In your erotic imagination he now stands before you his penis engorged, you look up along his body, rippling stomach muscles, broad chest, regal neck but his head is arched back in ecstatic anticipation, deigning you a glimpse of his face. You take his hardness in your hand and run your tongue along it’s leathery length you kiss the tip and probe under the salty tight foreskin exposing the shiny almost polished glan. You need to be satisfied now and lying back on the bed you guide his hardness into you. You squeeze your breasts and call out in ecstasy as you feel the smooth hardness fill your satiny wetness, dark light flashes in your mind as the ecstasy of this carnal coupling compels you, raising your bum from the bed and driving your hips forward to meet his smooth powerful thrusts, you un-cup both your breasts now squeezing and pinching the nipples as the blissful waves of pleasure increase carrying you to a blind chasm of gratification. You fall into the void again and again, la petite mort overcomes you .......................................................
You awake on the bed alone and naked you have pulled a sheet over you, you memory is foggy till you see the red leather vest skirt and underwear carelessly abandoned on the floor and beside you on the bed the cruelly erotic cat of nine tails.
End of Chapter 1
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