This scene was going to be part of the intro to a custom story which is currently being re-written. However, it seemed a shame to let it go to waste so... 
Santa Monica…
Sometimes a morning is just perfect. Everything is as it should be, the weather is just right and the day ahead seems full of possibilities. Today was such a day.
The sun’s rays came in through the living room window of my beachfront property and cast a warm glow over the polished wooden floor. The aroma of freshly made coffee wafted in from the kitchen and the lilting strains of Smetana’s Die Moldau floated gently from the speakers of the Bang & Olufsen sound system. I reached for the remote control and muted the CD. I was preparing for music of another kind.
I smiled to myself and looked down at the hogtied blonde on the plush rug before me. She was lying on her side, squirming and mouthing pleas for mercy in my general direction. At least, I assume that’s what she was doing, the bright red ballgag buckled firmly in her lush mouth made it difficult to tell. Her black satin maid’s uniform was rucked up around her thighs, revealing shapely thighs and the tops of her fishnet stockings, the front was ripped open to expose the swells of her breasts, snugly coccooned in a lacy red bra.
In truth it was her own fault, I had made it abundantly clear that I took my coffee without sugar and her failure to abide by that dictate had led to the latest in a series of sweet punishments.
“Now, Sabrina, you know full well you have misbehaved and that’s why I am punishing you again.”
She looked up at me doe-eyed and defenceless and shook her head. A thin line of drool had escaped from the corner of her mouth and was running down her chin. I tut-tutted, took out a handkerchief and gently wiped her face.
My sweet maid thanked me with a grateful batting of her eyelashes. I smiled and reached for the large antique egg-timer on the table beside me. Sabrina’s eyes went wide and she shook her head frantically. I upended the timer and there was a soft hiss as the grains of white sand escaped from the upper chamber and began to fill the lower.
I grabbed her left ankle and lifted it up, rolling her onto her tummy. Then I slid down onto the rug behind her and pulled her shins into my body, placing her wriggling feet right where I wanted them. I bent my face to her soles and inhaled the giddy scent of her skin. Intoxicating.
Time to pass judgement. I cleared my throat and addressed her in a magisterial fashion.
“As this is not your first infraction, I am going tickle the bare soles of your feet. It’s the only way you will learn to obey your master.”
Sabrina shook her head frantically and let out a muffled squeal as I tore at the soles of her stockings. The nylon ripped with a series of satisfying pops to expose her soft soles. As ever on these occasions, my cock raged with insistent urgency.
I studied Sabrina’s pedicured feet for a few seconds, admiring the soft glowing skin, the delicate arches and the neat flexible toes (her toenails were painted with cherry red varnish if you’re interested. Of course you are.) I knew they were soft little feet, I had given her an involuntary pedicure just the other evening, applying my pumice stone with a thoroughness she found nearly unbearable.
As ever I was momentarily mesmerised by the sight of these perfect female feet, bound and presented for my delectation.
An involuntary grunt of base pleasure escaped my lips and my fingers began to plunder that delicious flesh. They raked from the tips of her toes to her heels and back again. They stroked her arches, they probed between her toes and they squeezed and teased her heels.
For her part Sabrina did not disappoint. Gales of mirthful laughter escaped from her ballgagged lips and she struggled and squirmed delightfully. Her delightful derriere bounced up and down before me as the tight satin skirt of her maid’s outfit rode ever upward.
Bliss.
The scent of Sabrina’s womanly struggles soon overpowered the aromas of fresh coffee and I had to admit I was sweating too. I sucked greedily on her big toes, lashing them with my tongue whilst my fingers ran rampant over her toes before escaping over her thighs, slapping her bum and playing with her sides and ribs.
But with Sabrina, it always came back to the feet and I gave them the full attention of my manicured fingers and hungry, probing mouth.
The pink skin of her feet was so delicious, I just couldn’t get enough of it. I slurped away at her cute little toes as if they were popsicles and used the tips of my fingers over and over again to sign my name across her arches and heels.
It was with a look of some disappointment that I noticed the final grains of sand drop into the lower chamber of the egg timer. I took pride in self-discipline and released Sabrina’s feet. Her body heaved with ragged breathing and I undid the soft leather restraints around her wrists and ankles and unbuckled the ballgag in her mouth.
Sabrina flopped onto her back and looked up at me through heavy lidded eyes. Her lush red lips were slightly parted and her heaving bosom strained at the torn satin of uniform. Her skirt was now almost around her hips to the extent I could see her skimpy panties matched her bra.
I stood up, brushed an imaginary lint from my shirt.
Sabrina got shakily to her feet and smoothed her skirt and brushed her hair with her fingers. “Thank you, master. I promise I will not make the same mistake again.”
“I am sure that’s true. However, you are a rather careless girl at times and I expect you will make other mistakes for which I will have to punish you.”
She bowed slightly, coyly submissive. “If I am punished, I know I will have deserved it and I will be grateful to you for showing me the error of my ways.”
She stepped back into her black patent leather pumps with the French heels and picked up the feather duster that moments ago I had used to magnificent effect on the creamy skin of her throat and breasts.
“You are dismissed.” I pronounced with unimpeachable authority.
Her pert little bottom flexed deliciously beneath her uniform as I watched her leave.
My cock was still pulsating in my pants. I took a deep breath, held it and exhaled slowly to calm myself.
I wandered into the kitchen. Despite her faux pas with the sugar, she had made some excellent coffee. I poured myself a fresh cup and ate a croissant whilst I read the morning paper.
Santa Monica…
Sometimes a morning is just perfect. Everything is as it should be, the weather is just right and the day ahead seems full of possibilities. Today was such a day.
The sun’s rays came in through the living room window of my beachfront property and cast a warm glow over the polished wooden floor. The aroma of freshly made coffee wafted in from the kitchen and the lilting strains of Smetana’s Die Moldau floated gently from the speakers of the Bang & Olufsen sound system. I reached for the remote control and muted the CD. I was preparing for music of another kind.
I smiled to myself and looked down at the hogtied blonde on the plush rug before me. She was lying on her side, squirming and mouthing pleas for mercy in my general direction. At least, I assume that’s what she was doing, the bright red ballgag buckled firmly in her lush mouth made it difficult to tell. Her black satin maid’s uniform was rucked up around her thighs, revealing shapely thighs and the tops of her fishnet stockings, the front was ripped open to expose the swells of her breasts, snugly coccooned in a lacy red bra.
In truth it was her own fault, I had made it abundantly clear that I took my coffee without sugar and her failure to abide by that dictate had led to the latest in a series of sweet punishments.
“Now, Sabrina, you know full well you have misbehaved and that’s why I am punishing you again.”
She looked up at me doe-eyed and defenceless and shook her head. A thin line of drool had escaped from the corner of her mouth and was running down her chin. I tut-tutted, took out a handkerchief and gently wiped her face.
My sweet maid thanked me with a grateful batting of her eyelashes. I smiled and reached for the large antique egg-timer on the table beside me. Sabrina’s eyes went wide and she shook her head frantically. I upended the timer and there was a soft hiss as the grains of white sand escaped from the upper chamber and began to fill the lower.
I grabbed her left ankle and lifted it up, rolling her onto her tummy. Then I slid down onto the rug behind her and pulled her shins into my body, placing her wriggling feet right where I wanted them. I bent my face to her soles and inhaled the giddy scent of her skin. Intoxicating.
Time to pass judgement. I cleared my throat and addressed her in a magisterial fashion.
“As this is not your first infraction, I am going tickle the bare soles of your feet. It’s the only way you will learn to obey your master.”
Sabrina shook her head frantically and let out a muffled squeal as I tore at the soles of her stockings. The nylon ripped with a series of satisfying pops to expose her soft soles. As ever on these occasions, my cock raged with insistent urgency.
I studied Sabrina’s pedicured feet for a few seconds, admiring the soft glowing skin, the delicate arches and the neat flexible toes (her toenails were painted with cherry red varnish if you’re interested. Of course you are.) I knew they were soft little feet, I had given her an involuntary pedicure just the other evening, applying my pumice stone with a thoroughness she found nearly unbearable.
As ever I was momentarily mesmerised by the sight of these perfect female feet, bound and presented for my delectation.
An involuntary grunt of base pleasure escaped my lips and my fingers began to plunder that delicious flesh. They raked from the tips of her toes to her heels and back again. They stroked her arches, they probed between her toes and they squeezed and teased her heels.
For her part Sabrina did not disappoint. Gales of mirthful laughter escaped from her ballgagged lips and she struggled and squirmed delightfully. Her delightful derriere bounced up and down before me as the tight satin skirt of her maid’s outfit rode ever upward.
Bliss.
The scent of Sabrina’s womanly struggles soon overpowered the aromas of fresh coffee and I had to admit I was sweating too. I sucked greedily on her big toes, lashing them with my tongue whilst my fingers ran rampant over her toes before escaping over her thighs, slapping her bum and playing with her sides and ribs.
But with Sabrina, it always came back to the feet and I gave them the full attention of my manicured fingers and hungry, probing mouth.
The pink skin of her feet was so delicious, I just couldn’t get enough of it. I slurped away at her cute little toes as if they were popsicles and used the tips of my fingers over and over again to sign my name across her arches and heels.
It was with a look of some disappointment that I noticed the final grains of sand drop into the lower chamber of the egg timer. I took pride in self-discipline and released Sabrina’s feet. Her body heaved with ragged breathing and I undid the soft leather restraints around her wrists and ankles and unbuckled the ballgag in her mouth.
Sabrina flopped onto her back and looked up at me through heavy lidded eyes. Her lush red lips were slightly parted and her heaving bosom strained at the torn satin of uniform. Her skirt was now almost around her hips to the extent I could see her skimpy panties matched her bra.
I stood up, brushed an imaginary lint from my shirt.
Sabrina got shakily to her feet and smoothed her skirt and brushed her hair with her fingers. “Thank you, master. I promise I will not make the same mistake again.”
“I am sure that’s true. However, you are a rather careless girl at times and I expect you will make other mistakes for which I will have to punish you.”
She bowed slightly, coyly submissive. “If I am punished, I know I will have deserved it and I will be grateful to you for showing me the error of my ways.”
She stepped back into her black patent leather pumps with the French heels and picked up the feather duster that moments ago I had used to magnificent effect on the creamy skin of her throat and breasts.
“You are dismissed.” I pronounced with unimpeachable authority.
Her pert little bottom flexed deliciously beneath her uniform as I watched her leave.
My cock was still pulsating in my pants. I took a deep breath, held it and exhaled slowly to calm myself.
I wandered into the kitchen. Despite her faux pas with the sugar, she had made some excellent coffee. I poured myself a fresh cup and ate a croissant whilst I read the morning paper.
nderful teaser!!
