Lady Sonia

Lady Sonia edited and re-edited the email; then deleted it, re-wrote it from scratch and edited it some more. But this second draft was getting too long, too wordy, so Lady Sonia deleted that one, too, and rewrote it in a completely different way. When Lady Sonia was finished, Lady Sonia was still unhappy. Her intent was simple, the gist of the message straightforward, but Lady Sonia had to get the right nuances or her night would end in a disaster. A wrong outcome might even ruin her life.

It was worth spending time to get it exactly right.

After sweating over the keyboard for more than two hours, Lady Sonia admitted to herself that was good enough, that it had been good enough all along; that her fears – entirely valid fears – had driven her to look for any excuse to avoid sending it. But, right or wrong, it was time to commit herself. With her hand trembling on the mouse, Lady Sonia clicked the “send” button and let it fly through the Internet to Thomas’s office computer, warts and all.

Join Lady Sonia

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Join Lady Sonia

As soon as Lady Sonia sent it, Lady Sonia began to regret her stupidity with all her heart. Now Lady Sonia was committed. Absolutely committed. Lady Sonia asked herself what Lady Sonia had done. Lady Sonia cursed herself out loud because Lady Sonia had to follow through no matter what second thoughts Lady Sonia had. The email was a promise and Lady Sonia always kept her promises. If Lady Sonia reneged now, how could Lady Sonia expect Thomas to ever again trust her?

Lady Sonia opened the copy of the email in her “sent” folder and stared at it for a half hour, reading and re-reading it. And, with every reading, Lady Sonia imagined a different way that her evening could unfold. The best Lady Sonia could hope for was utter degradation. Any other outcome was worse.

Dear Thomas:

Last week, you told me that you were unhappy in our marriage. I was surprised because I thought it was going pretty well. Since then, I have been thinking about what I might do to make you happier. You have told me on a number of occasions that you think that our sex life has become mundane. That I am not as adventurous now as when we were dating. Read more…

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Upper Floor Bondage

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Upper Floor Bondage

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The Club is full. People are crammed into every corner. The music is loud. To be heard you must shout above the din, and if you get a reply you can only catch every second word – guessing the rest and simply nodding when you can’t guess. The entire place seems to be a swirling mass of humanity; some happy and shouting, some drunk or high, some just sitting by the walls watching, some lost in their own worlds. A nightclub, but a nightclub with a difference. Full Picture Set HERE

Sonias Slave 13

You are wearing a polished black latex outfit. It darkly reflects all that is around you. The hour spent polishing it was worthwhile. The latex clings tightly to every curve of your figure, not so much clothing you as presenting you – little can be seen of your skin, but nothing is hidden. It is a cat suit, hugging your body in its tight restrictive embrace. The long legs of the suit reach down to your ankles where they are meet by black shiny boots with four-inch stiletto heels. The arms reach down to your wrists where they meet more latex, black gloves go back over the suit to your elbow. The suit finishes with a tall collar that is fastened snuggly around your neck. The collar is stiff and keeps your neck long and straight. A single steel ring is embedded into the collar at your throat. At the back of the suit, stretching from beneath the collar, down your back, and between your legs is a black steel zipper. Only two zippers placed over the tight bulges of your breasts break the smooth curves of the front of the suit. Your hands are loosely cuffed behind your back. A leash is attached to the steel ring of your collar; it leads from you to me. Full Picture Set HERE or read the rest of the story Read more…

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