Level 1 – Leather
I stand dressed to the nines, head to toe in smooth, black leather – a short miniskirt and underneath, thong panties that he would beg to smell; a tight corset cinched around my waist that accentuates my curves and puts my girls on full display; a pair of ultra-sexy leather opera gloves that extend luxuriously up past my elbows; of course, my favorite platform knee boots laced up my calves; and even a thin, leather choker around my throat that proudly boasts the word BITCH in shiny, silver letters.
Tonight I am going to be a bitch by all definitions of the word, and frankly, I’ve never felt sexier.
Level 2 – Chastity
He quickly grows aroused simply at the sight of me entertaining his leather fetish, so my first task once finalizing my own divine appearance is to fit him with a proper chastity belt – one made of cold and unrelenting steel … one which hides his cock from view so that I don’t even have to look at it if I don’t want to … which I don’t. I’ll take far greater pleasures from denying him any access to his cock than I would actually feeling it inside me, and besides, as he’ll soon find out, a lady of my radiance has no problem finding alternatives to bringing herself pleasure on nights like this one, anyways…
I chuckle as he strains against his first of many bonds, longing for the simple touch of my gloved hand, though tonight he’ll taste no more than the bite of my whip … and knowing this makes him strain all the more!
Level 3 – Dominance
An astute slave will no doubt take notice of the key to his chastity belt dangling on a gold anklet that hangs around my booted foot as he kneels before me, awaiting the leather collar which I’m about to lock around his neck. He proves that he knows his role well by keeping his eyes lowered and his body spread wide for my inspection – if he continues to impress me, I may just give him permission to kiss those boots that so often dominate his fantasies, on his knees, open and exposed to me.
With the soft, but distinct click of the small padlock behind his neck, I whisper seductively into his ear, “You’re becoming mine, slave, but I still have so much more left to take…”
Level 4 – Bondage
Next is to take away his freedom – systematically – starting with matching wrist and ankle cuffs that I’ve affectionately picked out just for his service. The black leather with blue accents is a subtle reminder of what I’m about to put him through, and I make little work of securing each one snugly around his limbs before ensuring their compliance with more of the same padlocks to match the one already holding his collar in place.
My favorite restraint is to follow – a strict and unyielding bondage hood which fully encompasses his head with delicious leather and forces his focus upon my wrath all the more. Before slipping the hood over his head, I insert into his mouth a large, rubber penis gag into his mouth, my snicker at his lips wrapping around that huge cock the last he sees before I situate the hood over top and begin working to cinch down its laces. The task takes several minutes, but it’s one that I enjoy just as much as he does – watching the leather slowly conform over my submissive’s face until I can finally see the outline of his phallic gag protruding from his lips.
I savor the identity that it has removed from my slave, reducing him to little more than an object for my enjoyment, and I smile widely as I guide his now blind and muted body over to my spanking bench to secure him for what’s about to come next…
Level 5 – Pain
The blows come swift and in rapid succession, my rattan cane whistling through the air with the most wonderful sounds as I stand sternly over my bound sub. He struggles and moans with each sting, but the thick, sturdy cuffs allow little movement and the gag between his lips reduces his cries to merely background noise. I don’t count the number of times that I’ve struck him, instead using the color of his flesh as an indicator of when to give one area a break … though I always go back for more, as his body becomes more tender and receptive as I work.
Inside his hood, he begs me for mercy, but he really should know better by now from me – a woman doesn’t spend two hours getting all dressed up only to let her slave off easy! I break temporarily, just long enough to apply a set of cruel nipple clamps that make him squeal all the more, returning in time to show that now he must process pain from both the nipple clamps and also me caning his feet at the same time.
When I’ve worked up a real sweat and only when his bound body glistens bright red with pain, that’s when I set my beloved cane to the side and begin to subject him to an entirely different type of torture…
Level 6 – Humiliation
“He’s really enjoyed watching me beat you,” I lean in to tell him through the tight leather laced around his skull. “If he’s half as turned on as I am, we’re about to have one amazing fuck!”
I laugh out loud at the thought as I survey his bound figure, his pathetic cock not even visible – but no doubt straining as ever against its cage – as I tease him with the thought of sexual pleasures that he couldn’t possibly give me on his own. The mental head trip of not being worthy enough to please one’s own idol is a powerful one, and with a few choice words, I reduce him further than hours upon hours of relentless caning could ever be capable of…
“Don’t go anywhere, slave – if you’re lucky, maybe when we’re done I’ll take that gag out and let you suck his juices from my pussy. My lover says it’s ok, as long as he gets to take your ass, and I cane you some more to make sure that you’re worthy…”
Level 7 – Denial
His last level consists primarily of his own solitude and imagination as I take my throne on a chaise across from his bondage to enjoy the view, and also relish in the fruits of my hard work. My vocal enthusiasm leaves him wondering whether I’m still alone or if perhaps I do have a superior lover to pleasure me in his own shortcomings – he’s no doubt already well enough into subspace that it doesn’t take much to keep that fantasy alive and seared into his leather-clad head … at this point, I revel in the thought of a male stud thrusting into me relentlessly also, and my moans echo through the room like an angel’s song, the name of my imaginary lover slipping through my lips like the last nails in his submissive coffin.
Reclining in luxury as I catch my breath, the leather clings tightly to my now glistening skin as I beam of the orgasm of the dominant woman. Looking down my long legs to the impending platform boots still on my feet, I slowly begin to run my leather-gloved hands all across my body, savoring the feel of leather on leather while also smiling at the thought of my leather fetish slave bound only feet away, but unable to partake in any of the joys that come from witnessing a beautiful woman dressed in fine leather.
Maybe that final level is more for me than him – something for me to enjoy alone while he’s all locked away where he belongs … I lay my head back and sigh happily, my hand reaching up my skirt and into that leather thong that he never even got a glimpse of. It appears that my fictitious lover wants to give me one more fucking before we move on to even further depravities!
Enjoy the show, slave boy…