KinkySexRadio.com

[Prof. Tom]

"Her"

As I approach the front step Im pulling at my tie. I breathe out slowly mumbling just under my breathe "....what a fucking week...". A new position, a new project, life as we have it. The knob turns for me and Im thinking about which book Ill continue reading tonight when I get my feet off the floor in my easy chair, but as I bring myself into the house I feel something about, a different energy. And then I find the smell...its her. This is not the same "her" that I know so well, that I share a life with, not my other, not the one who is my slut at night and the lovely Mother all day. This is the other part of her, the woman who is calm and in control, complete control. The woman who brings out my nerves and makes my eyes search out the ground, the one whos presence frightens me. The smell is faint but discernable, its all I need. The smell, partly that which is uniquely her, partly that of the leather boots shes using, and a hint of something else, maybe a fragrance that she keeps hidden from me, maybe a shift in her being. As it may be; it brings forth that sensation that I so readily embrace, that humming sensation just beneathe my ribs, but closer to my center, its the ringing of a thousand tiny bells, its the chemicology of a primal passion, the hum like standing under the power lines in the rain, the rush that you feel when lightning strikes close and the explosion of thunder sets you alight with energy, it is what I usually call my "tingle", but theres more for her, for this "her" it is submission. The sublime feeling of being so completely owned by another, by the one who you would give yourself to, knowing that the ownership is mutual.

My shift complete, I begin to search her out. I can feel her here. As I walk through our home Im failing miserably at keeping my calm, and Im letting go of it willingly. As I make the stairs, up to the second floor, I feel myself rushing needlessly and Im making myself ready for her, ready to be before her. Rooms, from one to the next my search becomes desperate and I feel myself sinking. Thoughts race and worry rises, I hate that she makes me so weak, but do I?

Shes nowhere. And I feel a desperate panic. Has she readied herself in such a familiar way for another? Will she return to me? When will I know? I sit at the bottom of the stair to collect, to reason. Its not just the smell, I feel her as well. Shes doing this to me...she must be. She wants me desperate and her wish will be fulfilled, I am. I marvel at how effectively she has already reduced me, weakened me and stripped me of my considerable confidence. I havent even layed my eyes on her yet, but she has already exerted her control. My breaths are quick and shallow, and that will not do. Not for her, she will have me a frame of mind to be perfect for her. Despite my efforts, I cannot bring myself the calm and I know that she will force it upon me.

After some time my weakness drives me to know. To the garage, yes, her SUV is there. To the basement, and, no, I dont find her there. Through the house again, wrestling with my panic once more and losing, losing my balance and feeling myself quite off-center. "Have I misread this whole thing?" I wonder aloud as Im standing in our back room looking about. Then I notice, through the window, at the edge of the lawn, the door to our small stable is ajar, only slightly, but my heart soars. This sign, surely a mocking, just as surely instuctions for me to follow. I exit through a sliding door and use the walk to ready myself for her. For whatever she will be taking from me.

Entering the stable I smell "her" again, Stronger, more fierce, its pulling me, from my center, it sets me afire with the humming. And there she is, she has relaxed herself against the back and one arm of the couch at the end of the corridor. This is where she sits to pull on her riding boots so many Sunday mornings. She is leaned back slightly, her legs crossed, and she swings the toe of one boot slightly, the leather of her skirt has riden up under her slightly and the curve of her thigh shows. She is wearing a white silk shirt, the top few buttons left undone, a different form of torture for me. She is reading. She pays me absolutely no mind, but she knows I'm here. And she already feels that her ownership is complete.

As I approach, Im am keeping her name on my mind. The name she has when she is "her". When I am close I begin;
"Hello S...."
"Strip" She interupts calmly but firmly. Never taking her eyes from her book.
"Yes Ma'am" I reply to her, my voice quivering. I know that I must always reply to her. I must always acknowledge her.
I remove my clothes as quickly as I can, I know that she will be displeased if I do not demostrate haste in my obediance to her instructions. I fold everything and place the neat stack on top of my shoes, against the wall. I approach her to within a few feet, not too close, I know that crowding her is not permitted. I sink to her. Physically I place myself on my knees to her, and as I do I lower my being to her, I accept her control over all that I am.

She leaves me to wait. This is a torture she takes delight in. Shes knows that I am craving her attention, that its eating me. This torment brings her great pleasure, and for that, for that alone, I will gladly endure. Her satisfaction with my longing complete, she closes her book and places her boots on the floor. I keep my eyes steady on the floor, she will instruct me accordingly when she expects otherwise of me. She sighs slightly, I know that she will be taking of me in some manner soon and my spirit soars.
"Pet." She addresses simply.
I look to her eyes. Not of disrespect for my position or for her but because it is what she expects of me. I see "her" there, a different glow, the intense blue just a shade off.
"Yes..." I answer her using the name she has me use, the name of "her".

She points vaguely to the floor just before her. I slide my knees forward, one at a time, to be where she wants me. Then I bow to her. I make myself low before her, giving myself to her. I place my forehead on the floor between her feet. I know this act very well, she has instructed me carefully, trained me to meet her expectations in a perfect manner. She taps one boot, my signal, I lay the opposite cheek on the floor and place a kiss on her boot, I feel my submission more powerfully now, coursing in my veins. She taps the other boot and I alter my position in opposite, I place a kiss on the other boot, taking the time as she has trained me so that she can watch my lips caress her leather. My ritual complete to her liking, I return my forehead to the floor before her and await her lead.

"You have been short of balanced these last few weeks, my Pet" She offers in a casual tone.
"Yes Ma'am" I reply simply, all she expects of me.
"You know very well that I wish perfection of you and for you" Inquiring.
"Yes Ma'am"
"My Pet. I have decided to cleanse you. To strip you of what has become you. Do you understand?"
"Yes..." I respond using the name of "her". Fear rising, the emotion manifesting itself as a tightness in my throat.
"This will be a considerable process as you have allowed yourself to stray quite far from your balance. Do you understand me?"
"Yes Ma'am" I reply, my mind now racing with fear at her suggestion of a "considerable process".
"Do you accept my guidance for you my Pet? Knowing that I am going to be very harsh with you, that I will likely take you well past your limits to make you into what I expect of you and that you will have no imput in the matter"
My mind goes blank. We have discussed limitless scenarios before and I thought that I would be ready to accept one, especially with one who has learned me so completely. But the terror of such a situation suddenly become very real and very frightening. When I dont answer soon enough, I feel her shift forward, I feel her fingers under my chin as she firmly guides my face up, as she guides my eyes to her own. She stares into me and sees my fear. She knows that we're here. She knows that it is hers for the taking.
"You are ready for this Potter" Hearing my name from "her" lips is a gift of considerable worth.
"You are ready, and know that I am as well" she continues.
"Yes S..." I reply giving the name of "her" back to her in all earnest.

She rises and fastens a collar around my neck. This is symbolic, but the feel of the leather and the slight constriction send me through the rush of submission again, only to be furthered my the metallic click of her lead as she snaps it onto the collar. She leads me slowly behind her and I watch her heels from behind, savouring the sound they make on the wood floor. To the posts where we fasten bridals as we brush or shoe the horses.
"Up" She instructs.
"Yes Ma'am" As I stand.
She takes the cuffs she has fastened to the posts and directs me to a point half-way between.
"Put your wrists through" as she holds them out before me. Her words mesmerizing me, stroking me from within, consuming me.
I watch her fingers and hands as she fastens the clasps and buckles in such an expert manner, careful of the fit and tightness, caring for her property. I understand very well that despite the most rigorous thrashing, even the impact of my full weight, that these restaints will hold me easily, there will be no freeing myself from her bonds. Once she has fastened me carefully and completely, she moves her attention to the free ends of the leads attached to the cuffs. She has run them up and through the loops at the top of the posts, and now shes drawing them down, taking my arms up, exposing me to her. Exposing me completely. She pulls until my heels are just off the floor, I can still struggle but she has insured that I will remain in position for her. She circles me slowly, running her nails over my skin, my moans now escaping me freely with the magic of her touch. She moves before me and places her hands on my shoulders while she looks into me again.
"I have decided that for this process I will be using a bull on you. I have also decided that you will be gagged for me, for you own good as I need complete control"
Comprehension. Full comprehension of what is about to happen to me sinks in heavily. Along with excitement for this opportunity to give of myself so completely to one so deserving, to one such as her. I nod slowly.
"Yes Ma'am"
"Is this what you want Pet" Teasing.
"Please Ma'am, yes Ma'am, very badly" My nerves confusing my words.
"Yes? You want it badly, do you? You want to be gagged and whipped?"
The words on her breathy voice dance before me before I fully hear or understand them. My mind dances and swirls beyond my own control, submission to her overtaking me so completely. I try to respond as I know she expects, but I hear only a deep low moan escape my lips. Then I hear a slap as my world spins, then the pain finds me, it finds my face and I see her eyes on mine again.
"Answer me" She demands of me.
"Yes Mistress" She has taken me so completely.

From behind me she fastens the gag, drawing it tightly to be sure that I'm not able to interupt her while she's at her task. Her heels click as she moves around me, readying the area and herself for what is about to happen here. Then she steps back and admires her work.

She remembers the first glimpse she had of "her" herself. She remembers when they met and when they learned of each other. How she wondered if she could do it for him, to him. How she wondered if she had it in her. She remembers his lead in the beginning, how he took her and broke her so completely of herself and to him. The pain he gave her, the pain he took away. She remembers his careful teachings and her uncertainty. And the first time she felt "her" emerging within herself while he worked kneeling in his garden with sweat running down his back, how she wanted to own the sweat, and how it was made, to control it for herself, to bring the suffering to him that she knew he craved.

And now she stands behind him, a cursory "warm up" out of the way. She sees his tendons pulling against the skin without, the muscles in his back flexing and dancing at the end of her lash, the sweat now under her control, flowing from his pores as she rains her pain down upon him. The lithe whip sensuously dancing at her direction, cutting into him as his feet lift completely from the ground. She watches in ecstatic awe as his restrained form dances so beautifully before her, for her and her only. She molds him for himself as well as for her while giving to him what he so desperately craves, and taking from him what she so desperatly needs.