A DOM in Suburbia story

It was a quiet Tuesday in my condo located in North New Jersey. It was a rainy, cool day in early December, and I was just signing off the internet. The investment decisions I’d made earlier in the Fall were mostly going okay. The market was up some days and down on others; but on a monthly basis, I was doing just fine financially.

I had to pick up my slave, Martha, from her office in lower Manhattan, later this afternoon, and then take her back to her house to bed her. Her daughter, Robin, was 14 going on 25 and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do about her. But all that was for later.

My doorbell rang, and I looked at the monitor. It was Monica. Did I have an appointment scheduled for today? I checked my book ... No, this was an unscheduled visit. That was okay; I had room for an hour.

I opened the door, and she walked – or should I say slithered into the front room. She was immaculately dressed. She wore knee-length boots – black of course – with 4 inch heels. That would put her height at 6’2”. She was a tall bitch with an attitude, a wealthy husband who mostly didn’t have time to satisfy her sexual kinks because he was somewhere flitting about the country making money. Above that she had sprayed-on white short-shorts, a man’s blue dress shirt with the tails tied off under her large breasts and the buttons open. Her long black hair was braided down to mid-back. And she still wore the heavy stainless ring through her nose.

She shut the door behind her. “Do you have time for me, this morning, Master?” She casually dropped a pile of Franklins in the bowl by the door as she dropped to her knees. She adopted the position she knew I wanted: kneeling tall, head bowed as she stared at my wing tips, her hands clasped in the small of her back.

“For you, I can make time, bitch. How long do you have?”

“I have to be at a lunch at 1:00. But you can’t fuck me that long anyway.” I lifted her chin with my left hand and SLAAPPPed her cheek with my right. It left a red hand-print on her face.

He face snapped to the left. “Thank you, Master. May I have another?”

I ripped off the shirt that was trying, unsuccessfully, to cover her chest. I slapped each breast heavily with my right and then left. “Hands and knees, bitch. Facing the wall.” I had a slotted wood wall installed near the door. I could pretend it was designed for coats and such for guests.

I threaded a thin piece of cord through the nose ring, and led her over to the wood slat that was about 2 feet off the ground, looped it through the wood slat and gave it a little tug. “C’mon bitch and move it, or you won’t like the way I remove your nose ring.”

“Get those cute little shorts off.” She wiggled them down to her knees, her nose brushing the wall. I helped her get them off around her boots. “Spread your knees and I’ll be right back.”

I went to get my toys. I came back with a leather strap and a small whip.

I gave her a quick slap on each bun, just to get her attention. “Thank you, Master. May I have another?”