continued, running the leather tip over his lips, down
his neck, chest and stomach.
She stopped in
surprise noticing his stiff little penis. It was a clear and undeniable signal
of his arousal.
“My Conrad you really
do enjoy this, how very interesting, how very interesting indeed. If I’d known
you liked being so submissive, I’d of had you under my control far sooner.”
He dropped his head in
shame, unable to look her in the eye. For once he couldn’t bluff or lie his way
out of a situation.
“You know a man like
you should be very careful. For if these little visits of yours were to come
out, so to say, you’d be in quite a pickle.”
“You wouldn’t,” he
said looking at her nervously.
“Wouldn’t I?”
She paused enjoying
his discomfort.
“I mean what would
your colleagues make of this,” she said, giving his sensitive bellend a short,
sharp, smack.
“Or that lovely
devoted wife of yours,” she continued, smacking it a second time.
“And those kids of
yours, think of their horror when they grow up and learn daddy lost everything
because he liked to be humiliated.”
She finished with
three further, well placed smacks of the crop. Each went through him like a
painful jolt of electricity.
“Please!” he begged, cracking
as any composure he’d managed to maintain deserted him entirely. “I’ll do
anything, just don’t tell anyone,” he pleaded.
“As if I’d be so
mean,” she said returning the crop to its hook, before delivering her fatal
blow, her coup de grace.
“Aren’t phones
wonderful things, they perform so many functions nowadays,” she said,
retrieving hers from a pocket and holding it up.
“A little insurance to
ensure you follow my orders. Smile.”
She took several snaps
of the hard, helpless politician. From every conceivable angle it felt to the stricken
Mr Jenkins.
“Very nice,” she said
laughing, as she looked them over.
“Satisfied?” he asked
tetchily. “Just get me off this thing.”
“I don’t think so. I
believe you’ve got an appointment with a certain Miss Steel.”
He bit his lip,
preventing himself from letting out a series of expletives that he might later
regret. Carla returned his blind-fold, and felt a burst of satisfaction as she
looked at the practically neutered politician.
“I’ll be contacting
you soon,” she said, stroking the underside of his chin, whispering in his ear:
“You’ll very much be my puppet for the foreseeable future.”
She cupped his balls
firmly in the palm of her hand, as one final token of her newly acquired power.
“Remember I own you,”
she said, squeezing, just enough to make him gasp.
Those were her final
words. She left him as she’d found him, tied up and unsighted, the only
difference being his shredded pants, his still hard prick. On her way out in
the narrow corridor, she pulled out a thick wad of cash and handed it to Miss
Steel.
“Don’t hold back now,
treat him as mean as you can. I want the full works.”
“With pleasure,”
replied the young domme with a devilish grin.
The two ladies went
their separate ways with a bounce in both their steps, it had been a productive
day. As for Mr Jenkins, well, lets just say it would be more than a few weeks
before he’d be able to sit down in any comfort. Of course by then he was well and
truly under the command of a rising star in the political game, a certain woman
by the name of Ms Carla La Verne.
Part One
A New Product
Adam sat at the centre
of the large rectangular table, located on the third floor of the tall, shiny, modern
office block, in which he worked. He looked around the room. It was generally
used for meetings and the odd brainstorming workshop. Was modest, with
minimalist décor and windowless except for one wall to his right, which was
covered from floor to ceiling in glass panels. He ran a hand through his dark
hair as he peered at his reflection in the black façade.
At six foot three,
square-jawed,
his neck, chest and stomach.
She stopped in
surprise noticing his stiff little penis. It was a clear and undeniable signal
of his arousal.
“My Conrad you really
do enjoy this, how very interesting, how very interesting indeed. If I’d known
you liked being so submissive, I’d of had you under my control far sooner.”
He dropped his head in
shame, unable to look her in the eye. For once he couldn’t bluff or lie his way
out of a situation.
“You know a man like
you should be very careful. For if these little visits of yours were to come
out, so to say, you’d be in quite a pickle.”
“You wouldn’t,” he
said looking at her nervously.
“Wouldn’t I?”
She paused enjoying
his discomfort.
“I mean what would
your colleagues make of this,” she said, giving his sensitive bellend a short,
sharp, smack.
“Or that lovely
devoted wife of yours,” she continued, smacking it a second time.
“And those kids of
yours, think of their horror when they grow up and learn daddy lost everything
because he liked to be humiliated.”
She finished with
three further, well placed smacks of the crop. Each went through him like a
painful jolt of electricity.
“Please!” he begged, cracking
as any composure he’d managed to maintain deserted him entirely. “I’ll do
anything, just don’t tell anyone,” he pleaded.
“As if I’d be so
mean,” she said returning the crop to its hook, before delivering her fatal
blow, her coup de grace.
“Aren’t phones
wonderful things, they perform so many functions nowadays,” she said,
retrieving hers from a pocket and holding it up.
“A little insurance to
ensure you follow my orders. Smile.”
She took several snaps
of the hard, helpless politician. From every conceivable angle it felt to the stricken
Mr Jenkins.
“Very nice,” she said
laughing, as she looked them over.
“Satisfied?” he asked
tetchily. “Just get me off this thing.”
“I don’t think so. I
believe you’ve got an appointment with a certain Miss Steel.”
He bit his lip,
preventing himself from letting out a series of expletives that he might later
regret. Carla returned his blind-fold, and felt a burst of satisfaction as she
looked at the practically neutered politician.
“I’ll be contacting
you soon,” she said, stroking the underside of his chin, whispering in his ear:
“You’ll very much be my puppet for the foreseeable future.”
She cupped his balls
firmly in the palm of her hand, as one final token of her newly acquired power.
“Remember I own you,”
she said, squeezing, just enough to make him gasp.
Those were her final
words. She left him as she’d found him, tied up and unsighted, the only
difference being his shredded pants, his still hard prick. On her way out in
the narrow corridor, she pulled out a thick wad of cash and handed it to Miss
Steel.
“Don’t hold back now,
treat him as mean as you can. I want the full works.”
“With pleasure,”
replied the young domme with a devilish grin.
The two ladies went
their separate ways with a bounce in both their steps, it had been a productive
day. As for Mr Jenkins, well, lets just say it would be more than a few weeks
before he’d be able to sit down in any comfort. Of course by then he was well and
truly under the command of a rising star in the political game, a certain woman
by the name of Ms Carla La Verne.
Part One
A New Product
Adam sat at the centre
of the large rectangular table, located on the third floor of the tall, shiny, modern
office block, in which he worked. He looked around the room. It was generally
used for meetings and the odd brainstorming workshop. Was modest, with
minimalist décor and windowless except for one wall to his right, which was
covered from floor to ceiling in glass panels. He ran a hand through his dark
hair as he peered at his reflection in the black façade.
At six foot three,
square-jawed,
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