Lady Sonia

The telephone on my desk rang. I answered it, and my secretary said, “It’s your
wife.”

“Hello, Handsome!” said the soft voice I knew so well. As I replied, shivers ran
down my spine, because she had used the nickname that told me she was speaking
as my “Bondage Mistress.”

“I have something special for your dinner tonight,” she continued. “Why don’t
you come an hour or so early, so that we can get into the right mood?”…

Punishment Bitch

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Punishment Bitch

I could feel my crotch beginning to bulge as I protested that I had an important
meeting to attend that afternoon, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good.

“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” she chuckled. “But don’t worry, I’ll wait for
you… and maybe while I’m waiting I can think of a little extra something to
whip up for you!” — which meant, I knew, that I could expect some extra tight
bondage and probably some “discipline” for not coming home when she wanted me
to.

I promised to be home as early as I could, and we said goodbye; I hung up
wondering how in hell I’d be able to concentrate in my meeting, with the
exciting prospect of an evening’s bondage fun and games to distract me.

It wasn’t easy, but I managed to get through the meeting without making it too
obvious that my mind was really elsewhere. But once my car and on the freeway I
relaxed a little and my mind started to wander….

Lady Sonia and I had been together for about six years, and for the last four of these
we’d been enjoying games that involved bondage, discipline and slavery; nearly
always Lady Sonia would dominate and bind me, because I got more fun out of the
sensations than she did… especially the feeling of being a helpless prisoner
who must obey every command of my Mistress and submit to her every whim. We
usually had a “session” about once a week, sometimes lasting just an hour or
two, but mostly the whole evening and occasionally I would spend a full day or
even a weekend shackled or bound in some way or other. Read more…

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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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This is one of Lady Sonia’s favorite stories, it goes like this. The sun came through the tall windows, flittering down between the book shelves and books softly, dancing with the dust motes that lingered in the air. It was pleasant here, at least for her; she readjusted her glasses and focused again on the text open before her. She could feel the headache growing inside her, it happened sometimes, she still wasn’t use to the glasses and the affect they had or didn’t have. She couldn’t read without them, not without asking for a headache and the current one was building because she had attempted just that. Bad idea apparently.

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Her lips parted in a yawn as she stretched in her chair, her plain white button up blouse straining over her generous bosom as her legs uncoiled from beneath the chair her sweetly curved bottom rested in. Spencer’s Fairy Queen was interesting, truly it was but today it was just not holding her mind, and the small text was blurring before her eyes, even with the glasses. She shook her head, her curls moving around her shoulders easily before resettling as she rested her chin in the cup of her palm and glanced around her at the bookshelves.

She was all alone here too, just studying for something that wasn’t happening for two more weeks and everyone else had obliviously found better things to do. Perhaps she was too much of an over achiever. Suddenly the female felt hands on her shoulders, teasing her skin through the curtain of her hair, the heat of the hands going through her white linen blouse and plain gray vest. Her head turned, eyes widening before they took in the sight of him. “Oh..sir..” she turned in her seat, her hands reaching up towards him only to have his hands close around hers and pull her upward, out of her chair. She went, her gray skirt sliding around her long legs even as her kitten heels hit softly against the floor in clacks, she stumbled into his taller frame and blushed, smiling shyly up at him. Read more…

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