from Sallyann

Dear Helga,

I have just spent the most enjoyable weekend and everything went well and the future is looking very promising. On Saturday morning Owen and I visited the Maplescombe site and he gave me a final briefing about what the builders are supposed to be doing. He then drove me to a charming, tiny pub with a thatched roof called "The Quiet Nook," for a simple lunch of bread and cheese. But both the bread and the cheese were made on the premises and I could really taste the difference. I was also pleased to note that Owen limited himself to a single pint of beer. He gave me a taste of it saying it was also locally brewed, but well hopped real ale is a taste I've yet to acquire. Much as I do enjoy a glass of wine and of course a G&T in the evening I don't think I'll ever learn to love beer. The mead that poppet used to make was delicious and despite being made from honey was not in the least bit cloying.

After lunch we went to collect my dress. I've made a superhuman effort to lose those extra holiday pounds and this time it was a perfectly snug fit. As it was being boxed up and Owen settled the account I glanced over his shoulder and my eyes watered at what it cost him. As we were walking back to the car he suddenly caught my arm and drew my attention to a shoe shop window and a pair of black suede courts. He said, "Those are for you my Princess." To cut a long story, and many trial fittings, short I emerged with a pair of smart new shoes that perfectly completed my new gown.

He cooked for us at his house; poached sea bass with rocket salad and baby potatoes and we shared a bottle of Chablis. So far so perfectly normal romantic evening. He was going to just put everything in the dishwasher, but I insisted that he wash everything up by hand, wearing his apron of course. I told him that I didn't like the smeary appearance or imperfect cleansing of dishwashers and that glassware should always have the sparkle that could only come from hand washing in very hot water. I supervised while he washed up then helped to dry and put everything away. We went back into the lounge and he poured us both a cognac. He took a sip of his then bent down and slipped off my shoes and began to gently rub my feet saying he hoped my new shoes would be comfortable. I was feeling very confident so I answered, "If they aren't then I shall have to punish you. In fact I might have to punish you anyway for spending so much money you naughty boy, but I suspect that's what you want." He said nothing but began to kiss my toes while gently tickling my soles, making me feel very aroused. Before I lost control of the situation I told him to stop and follow me upstairs.

In the bedroom I ordered him to undress, fold his clothes neatly on a chair and then go downstairs to wait for me. He asked in a rather sulky voice if he could stay and watch me change. I said, "This is the bedroom and here I am your queen so unless you want to feel my crop across your bare backside stop being a naughty boy and do as you are told." When he'd gone I took some time redoing my make up and making sure I looked as good as possible before stripping off and putting on my new dress. Wearing it without underwear made it feel even more sensuous and combined with the shoes it looked very glamorous. I clipped my crop to the special loop and admired myself in the mirror. I have to say that it looked fabulously sexy and also powerful, which was exactly the way I felt; it was wholly feminine but somehow exuded power, even without the crop no man would ever dare challenge me and that made me feel very sexy. I gave myself one last spray of scent and went down for my grand entrance.

I paused at the top of the stairs and saw Owen get to his feet, although I kept my gaze level as I made my slow progress down, the last thing I wanted to do was catch a foot in my hem and spoil the effect, I could sense him watching me. When I reached the bottom I took five steps forward and slowly twirled round allowing the dress to flair out slightly. It was quite heavy so the effect wasn't that great but it was enough for Owen. I heard him gasp and when I turned to face him he was as stiff as a poker. I smiled and very gently tapped his penis with the end of my crop saying, "I can see what you think of it, you wicked boy." He sank to his knees seized the hem and kissed it before looking up at me and saying, "My God! You are just sex on legs. You really know how to be elegant and feminine and just so, so desirable. You look ravishing and I want to ravish you, here, now, this very second. Oh God, you are just so gorgeous!"

Well, who can resist compliments like that? Certainly not me at my age and I was very tempted to turn round and order him to follow me back upstairs, but the moment of weakness passed and I said, "Thank you, it is indeed a very glamorous dress and it does make me feel very feminine. You may get up and kiss me." He literally leapt up, there is no other word adequate, and grabbed me. I moved back and warned him, "Gently. And don't you dare mark this dress, if that dribbles,"and here I flicked his penis with two fingers of my right hand, "on it I'll flay you alive and don't think I'm exaggerating." He mumbled something about being sorry and then arched his pelvis back away from me as he began to kiss me while running his fingers up and down my bare spine. It was a wonderfully erotic feeling and adding to my pleasure was the knowledge that maintaining such an awkward position must have been very uncomfortable for him, but he did it not just willingly but enthusiastically. I know it is a much overused word, but I felt empowered and incredibly, if you'll excuse such a coarse term, randy.

In fact I was so aroused that I was in danger of losing control to my own hormones so I commanded, "Stop. You told me you wanted to kiss each and every one of vertebrae while I was wearing your fantasy dress, do so this instant or I shall punish you with the utmost severity." He went round behind me and kissed the nape of my neck, then slipped his hands under my armpits cupped each of my breasts and began to caress them with his fingers. Even through the stiff under support I could feel him as he played with my now very erect nipples and his tongue and lips worked their way steadily downwards. It was just wonderful and even now just trying to type this I find it difficult to concentrate and keep making silly slip ups. All the time he kept up a torrent of compliments about my perfect back and what a sexy woman I was and how much he wanted us to be married so we could do this every day. I just knew that this was the moment to act or I would simply lose it; so I said, "Stop. I love this dress and thank you for it. It makes me feel exactly as I wish to feel elegantly powerful, in control, very, very sexy and above all Mistress of all I survey. Henceforth it shall be called my Mistress dress and whenever I wear it, which will be often, you shall address me as Mistress or face severe punishment. Is that clear?"

His response shocked and delighted me. He said, "Whatever you command, Mistress." Then he quite literally swept me off my feet and held me in his arms, said in a strange voice, "Christ! You are one sexy devil women, I can't help myself I'm bewitched," and kissed me pushing his tongue very deep. He literally ran up the stairs with me in his arms, kissing me all the way; I could feel the jolts of the steps but most of all I could feel him licking my palate, I was struggling to breathe but I didn't want him to stop.

He burst into the bedroom and rather unceremoniously dumped me on the bed. I was gasping for air, but rolled onto my front to allow him to undo the short zip and lifter the halter over my head, then turned on to my back. He pulled it down and with a little bottom wriggling from me past my hips and off. He flung it aside and fell on me like the proverbial thunderbolt. He shouted, "God, I love you but I fancy you even more," and plunged inside me. He pinned my shoulders to the bed and kissed me all over my face, neck and upper chest whilst hammering away like a man possessed. He even bit me once or twice. He didn't make love to me, this was raw physical sex, fast, furious and above all passionate; the closest thing to rape, and I loved every second of it.

Sadly it didn't last long, I was so aroused I was on a hair trigger and despite trying to hold back after less than a minute I knew I was going to come. I dug my nails into his bottom as hard as I could and arched my back and felt him explode inside me. My orgasm came about two seconds later and boy was it a lulu. I felt every muscle in my body contract and we just wriggled together in ecstasy as he tried to get his tongue down my throat and I tried to strip the skin off his bum and back with my nails.

I was completely exhausted but I could feel him still inside me as he licked a few beads of perspiration of my forehead and told me how beautiful I was. I said, "It's nice to know that an old 'un like me can still cut the mustard and I'm not quite ready for retirement in a cottage full of cats." He replied, "Stop fishing for compliments. You're not old, you're in the autumn of life and autumn always was my favourite season. The season when nature is at her most colourful, most subtlety beautiful, most complex, most productive. The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, the season of the harvest when the days are warm enough to lie in the sun, but the nights are chilly enough to cuddle up and kiss each other warm. I love you, every desirable inch of you, every line, every mark, every tiny imperfection that makes you so perfectly gorgeous." Then he began to lick my nipples and I could feel him begin to get firm again inside me and I realised I was losing control of the situation, but then I thought, "What the hell, I'm not going to get another opportunity like this again in a hurry," and so I just lay back and let him make gentle love to me.

This time he took his time and although he was very firm, almost masterful, he was affectionate and loving rather than passionate and I loved that too. I was passively enjoying it and thinking that life was pretty good as I just about had it all when he slid both his arms under me and suddenly turned us over. He said, "Don't go to sleep on me, you like being on top, you do a bit of work for a while." As he said this he bounced me up and down on his pelvis, which was quite erotic but I was shocked at the liberty he had taken. I propped myself up on my left elbow and used my right hand to slap his face as hard as I could. "Don't you dare speak to me like that. This is the bedroom and here I tell you what to do and don't you ever forget it." He looked very sheepish and said, "Sorry Mistress," before gently rolling me back over again and continuing as before. I felt elated, here was this physically strong, virile man lying on top of me and yet ready to obey my every command. I new that I was now in a position to be able to get him to do anything and everything I wished. As he was about to climax I whispered, "Admit it, this is what you've always wanted. Go on admit it, admit it to your Mistress." He said, "Yes, Mistress, I love you." As he came I commanded, "Louder," and she shouted, "Yes Mistress, I love you and this is what I want." My own orgasm wasn't that powerful but it was incredibly satisfying, hearing him admit that gave me additional waves of pleasure that seemed to just flow through me. I said, "Good boy," and kissed him passionately.

Afterwards we lay for a long time together in silence while I stroked his hair and I wondered when I should punish him. Fortunately he made the decision for me by excusing himself and going to the bathroom. When he returned I'd got my crop in my hand and was waiting for him. As he entered I said in my sternest tones, "Now then young man, I've got several large bones to pick with you. First I don't remember giving you an instruction to carry me upstairs. Second I don't appreciate being thrown on the bed in such an undignified fashion. And thirdly how dare you throw my new gown on the floor like some worthless rag. Pick it up this instant you wicked boy." He opened his mouth to speak and then thought better of it and went and carefully picked up the dress. "Put in on a hanger," I snapped. As he did so I saw him sniff the inside just about where my right breast would go. He turned and said, "It still carries your scent Mistress. I'm sorry I wasn't more careful with it earlier." I said, "You will be, hang it very carefully in the wardrobe." He did so, carefully arranging it so the hem didn't touch the bottom and when he was satisfied he closed the door and turned to face me.

I flexed the crop in my hands and told him, "You've been very naughty and I'm quite disappointed in you. Well we know what happens to naughty boys, kneel on the bed." I had been intending to have him touch his toes, but I wasn't sure he'd be able to maintain his balance during what was going to be a severe test for him, and I wanted plenty of space to swing my arm. I instructed him to move his knees further apart and touch his forehead on the bedspread. When he'd complied I admired the scratches my nails had left on his buttocks and said, "I'm going to give you six strokes for each offence, but they will be very hard and they will hurt, as they're supposed to. If you attempt to move I shall start from the beginning, if you wriggle your bottom too much I shall similarly start over again and if you make too much noise then I shall know that you are a cowardly wimp unworthy of my attention far less my hand in marriage. I drew back my arm and brought the crop down very hard across his bottom. He let out a loud gasp through gritted teeth and his head came off the bed and he shook it from side. I said, "Be careful not to forget what I said. You know you deserve this so man up and take it. I brought the crop down again and this time he just gasped loudly.

By the time I'd given him the first six, he was trembling and sweating and there was a dark red line across his bottom. I got all six within an inch of on another, which pleased me greatly. I took slight pity on him and gave him the next six slightly lower down on untraumatised skin, but by the time I'd finished he was moaning gently and I could see tears running down his cheeks. I wasn't quite so accurate this time and one stroke had fallen outside my target area, but he had a second dark red stripe beneath the first, which was now beginning to turn purple, so I wasn't too dissatisfied. I gave him the final six alternating my aim between the two existing stripes and each time the crop landed he gave a loud moan and shook his head from side to side flicking tears sideways off his cheeks.

When I'd administered the full number I moved close to admire my handiwork and I could see he was shaking like a jelly. I said, "Perhaps that will teach you to treat both me and my clothes with the respect they deserve in the future. I hope so because if I see any of my clothes on the floor again, it won't be six it will be sixty. You may stand up and thank me." Very awkwardly he got to his feet and mumbled, "Thank you." I said, "You will thank me properly, by which I mean you will kneel down, kiss the crop and thank me as though you were properly grateful for the correction you have just received." He knelt down, kissed the proffered crop and said, "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you for correcting me." I answered, "That's better, now go and stand in the corner with your hands on head like the naughty boy you are." Off he went and obediently stood in the corner. I went downstairs and finished my glass of brandy feeling very pleased.

It had been my intention to put him into the punishment panties I'd bought for luke/lucy but never got round to using, but pansy had put them away in the bottom of a drawer ages ago and I couldn't remember which one it was. I'd also come close to breaking Owen's skin so I thought that would be enough, at least for the time being.

When I returned to the bedroom Owen had managed to stop crying but his face was very tear stained and he looked just like a naughty boy who'd be on the receiving end of a proper punishment. I told him to go and wash his face and while he was in the bathroom I got a pot of cold cream. When he returned I told him to lie across my lap and his face was a picture as he obviously thought he was going to get a hand spanking, but he did as he was told. I gently rubbed in some cold cream and I could feel the heat in this rear, he winced every time I touched him. I told him I knew it hurt but if he insisted on behaving badly and being a naughty boy then that's what would happen. I spent some considerable time rubbing his bottom hoping to get him aroused again so that he would associate the aftermath of pain with pleasure, but he was probably hurting too much. Eventually I told him he was forgiven and to get up. Then I kissed him and told him to put his nightie and panties on and come to bed. In bed I let him cuddle up and we kissed some more, after a few minutes he whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry Mistress. I am truly sorry, but my God that hurt." The light was off so he couldn't see me smiling as I said, "I know it did, but if you're a good boy in future and do as you're told it won't happen again." As I said it I was thinking, "In a pig's ear it won't happen again, you ain't felt nothing yet." I went to sleep very happy but I doubt Owen got much rest.

Sunday morning we had a bit of a lie in and another cuddle and Owen suggested going out for breakfast. I told him to go and shave and bathe as I had something I wanted to give him. While he was in the bathroom I went downstairs and made us both a cup of tea, on my way back up I retrieved the CB 6000 from my handbag and hid it under my pillow. When he emerged from the bathroom I told him to show me his bottom which had two very obvious dark red raised welts about three inches apart and almost parallel with each other. I said they looked very tender to which he replied rather shortly, "They are." I rubbed some more cream into them and much of the heat had gone so they couldn't be giving him too much pain.

I told him it was time to give him his present, but I didn't want him peeking. I put his panties over his head and knotted one of his ties around his head at eye level to make sure he couldn't see. Then I use another one to secure his hands behind his back. He let me do so with hardly a word of protest; he just said, "It's a bit early in the day to start getting all kinky." I shushed him and carried on. When I was happy that he could neither see nor free his hands I whipped the CB 6000 from under the pillow and selected what I thought would be the right spacer. It was slightly too small so I went a size up and fitted it in place in less than a minute. I slipped the brass padlock into position and snapped it shut.

I untied his hands first and they went straight to his member and when I removed the panties off his head he stared down in horror crying, "What is it? What have you done?" I smiled sweetly and answered, "It's your present. You got me something very special that you want me to wear for you because it turns you on, so I've returned the favour and got you something equally special to wear that will turn me on. There's no need to thank me." He looked at me aghast and said, "But what the hell is it?" I said, "Please mind your language I don't want to have to spoil this moment by punishing you. It's your chastity device and I know your going to love it." He went pale saying, "Chastity device, what do you mean chastity device?" I answered, "It's really very simple. We are going to be apart quite a bit in forthcoming months and you've already confessed that you have lots of naughty thoughts when we're separated and this will help you. You'll still have them of course you just won't be able to do anything about them. Not till you come home to me and I release you, or possibly not if I don't think you deserve it."

There was a long silence and he paced round the room like a caged tiger before sitting on the edge of the bed shaking his head and muttering, "I must be dreaming." I knelt down and kissed the tip of his cage. "Look," I really want you to do this for me, you want me to wear your engagement ring and I want you to wear this for me. It may feel a bit strange at first but it won't hurt and what have you got to lose? Or were planning on two timing me in Scotland?" "Of course not," he replied. "So the only possible objection you could have is that it will stop you playing with yourself. Do you play with yourself in my absence?" He said, "Well sometimes perhaps, but only when I think of you." I had him and be both knew it. I said, "Well I don't want you playing with yourself like some dirty little sex starved adolescent, I want the only person who plays with that to be me, and if you loved me like you say you do then you'd want that too."

He tried all the usual old arguments about trust and it not seeming right and what would happen if he was subjected to a body search at the airport, but he knew he was well and truly caught. In the end I told him I was going to have a bath and that he should get dressed. As I lay in the bath it was all I could do to stop myself from punching the air.

Sunday seemed to fly past. He took me to have a late breakfast at a hotel in Tunbridge Wells and we did a little window shopping. He said he wanted to buy me a pair of long opera gloves to go with my new dress but I couldn't decided whether I'd prefer them in velvet of leather so Owen said he try to get me both when he returned from Scotland. Several time I asked him how his present felt and each time he replied that it felt like he was lugging an anvil around and I told him not to exaggerate. In the end the only thing we bought was a stiff clothes brush, which I couldn't help notice would double very nicely a spanker, to keep my dress looking spotless. During the course of the afternoon I showed Owen how to brush the nap in the same direction to keep the velvet looking good. He spent a happy hour and half just practising brushing my dress on a hanger. I'm convinced he has a fetish for velvet, though he did remark it would be a lot more fun to do if I were wearing it.

I then allowed him to spend about half an hour massaging my feet and legs and told him that he would soon be ready to progress to doing my back and shoulders. Then as a special treat I let him repaint both my fingernails and toes with a darker shade of varnish. He was a bit wobbly, possibly because he was unused to doing it or possibly because he was excited, but I told him it was a good effort. Then I ordered him to slip his shoes and socks off and I did his toenails in the same shade. I told him what a rare honour it was for me to do this for him and a great privilege to be allowed to wear the same colour as myself and he shouldn't expect treats like this on a regular basis. He raised not a word of protest, he just let me do it as though it was completely normal.

We had a quiet evening in together watching television like an old married couple. I was tempted to put the velvet dress on again for him but I didn't think it was fair with him newly locked up, and I certainly had no intention of releasing him before Friday. Similarly we had an early night and spent a long time kissing and cuddling in bed. No more punishments and no more sex. I told him how much I liked my fabulous new dress and hoped he liked seeing me in it as much as he thought he would. He kissed me and said he liked it much, much more. I whispered in his ear, using lots of tongue, "Good. I hope you learn to love wearing your new present as much as I love having you wear it." He didn't reply but he didn't complain which I thought was some small progress so kissed him and said, "I know this is difficult for you but men just can't help themselves, without a strong woman in control they revert to being naughty little boys and I don't want that happening to you. I think you have the makings of a first rate husband, but you'll have to work at it and no one said it was going to be easy, but I'll be there to help you every step of the way. Just trust me and accept that I always know what's best for you and do as you're told and you won't go far wrong." He smiled and kissed my forehead and whispered, "I'll try, Mistress." For a second night I went to sleep very happy.

This morning I laid out the panties, red with black lace trim, I wished him to wear and helped him pack before taking him to Gatwick. The first thing I put in his case was a sheer black diaphanous nightie and matching pair of bed knickers. Then a pair of panties for each day of the week, pale blue, pink, black, and red with black lace again. I also put in a red and black lace suspender belt and a pair of plain sheer black stockings, with instructions that I expected him to be wearing them when I collected him on Friday evening. I left the threat of what might be the consequences of failing to do so implied. The last thing I did before leaving for the airport was to use a tie to secure his hands before unbuckling his trousers and pulling down his panties. I produced the key from my pocket and undid the padlock and his face brightened. But after a quick check to see it wasn't chafing, I gave the spacer a generous smear of emollient cream just to make sure and replaced it. This time I used one of the plastic airport locks. Before pulling up his panties I told him that its serial number was unique and the only way to remove it was to give the tab a sharp twist which would break it off making it impossible to put back. I then took the whole in my hand and said, "Think of me, because I'll be thinking of you wearing this for me, especially at night." I kissed the end of the tube and by turning my head inserted my tongue deep enough into the end slot for it to touch the tip of his penis. He groaned loudly. At the airport I kissed him passionately, messing up my make up in the process and said, "Be good and hurry back to me."

So I'm feeling rather pleased with life at the moment, and more than little pleased with myself, one might almost say smug. I don't think it could have gone any better. That velvet dress certainly inflames Owen's passion and it made me feel rather excited as well. Its only drawbacks are that it's very heavy, I wouldn't like to wear it for more than a few hours, and it's definitely designed for standing in rather than sitting down. It's great for making a grand entrance or taking a turn round the ballroom but I shouldn't like to go out to dinner in it. Though judging from Owen's reaction I wouldn't get as far as the front door before he was trying to rip it off me. Before he returns I'll have to think of some more hoops for him to jump through in order to earn his release and get pansy to find those punishment panties.

With fondest love

Another letter from my dear departed friend Sallyann. I'm sure you must look so sexy in your red dress, no surprise he couldn't help himself. Well done on the scene play, getting him to say Mistress in the bedroom I imagine will now become the norm, as it should. He also seems to be taking to correction quite well, you have a real winner here. I have to say how much I am delighted for you both. The introduction to the chastity device was inspired and I loved how you asked him questions of the 'damned if you do/damned if you don't' variety, one of my favorite tactics.


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