Mistress Cassandra walks into my apartment with her towering platform heels. When she removes her dominatrix cap, her waist-length hair spills out in a liquid rush. The light catches the red highlights in her jet black locks, and I kneel and humbly take the cap that she hands to me.

"So, slave girl, from what you’ve told me over the phone this morning, you haven’t been able to stop playing with yourself lately. You sick little pervert! You know what this means. You’ll have to be punished."

Mistress shrugs out of her calf-length leather coat to reveal a gorgeous amber latex jumpsuit, that clings to her curvaceous slim body like a second skin. She hears my unconscious intake of breath, and grants me a smile - that vanishes so quickly, I thought, perhaps I imagined it. She then dumps her coat over my head as I hear her command,

"Hang these up properly, slave girl, or you’ll be sorry."

I only rise from my knees when I am certain that my Mistress has left the room. I could hear the hypnotic thumping on the wooden floor made by her boots as she walks away.

After hanging her coat in the cupboard, I crawl into the lounge room where Mistress is enjoying the drink I had poured for her earlier. Her back is to me, allowing me to view her magnificent rear with lustful eyes without fear of reprisal. She hears me crawl in and simply orders; "Strip!" In moments my clothes are discarded on the floor - abandoned in frantic haste. It is difficult to undress quickly when your eyes are glued to the perfect globes of your supreme Mistress’s bottom. She shifts her weight distractingly from one platform heel to the other, and the tiny pants of her latex jumpsuit almost disappear into her inviting nether crease. Her legs are shapely and tanned, and she exudes an air of healthy vitality. She places one fist against her slender waist and turns to face me; a cruel sneer tugging at her full sensuous lips when she notices my gaze locked on her bosom.

I can’t help it! She is so beautiful, and her full round breasts heave and sway hypnotically beneath her low-cut latex top. She leans forward slightly to tease me, and I helplessly gasp aloud as her breasts surge forward, almost threatening to spill from their snug restraints.

"Stop staring at my breasts, you slut! I‘ll have to discipline you for that alone. Bring out your punishment briefs."

She sends me crawling on my way with a sharp ‘crack’ from her leather paddle on my naked rear end.

At my Mistress’s stern command, I stand briefly to step into my punishment briefs. I tug the tight latex briefs up over my thighs and wriggle my bum inside. The tight restrictive grip around my swelling cock feels wonderful as my crotch is swallowed in its clinging embrace. She then orders me to my knees at once. Her dark eyes flashing menacingly as she paces around me on her towering high heels.

I am once again a trembling fool, kneeling before my slender Mistress, with my head bowed and my hands submissively clasping my elbows behind my back. Her long dark hair caresses my naked back as she leans over me. My tiny pert tits stand to attention as she taps my pierced nipples with her expertly wielded crop.

Mistress disappears behind me with the hypnotic sounds of her platform heels. She steps on my calves, pinning my legs to the floor while she yanks my head back by my ponytail.

"Close your eyes, slave girl!" she commands.

I take a long last look at my desirable Mistress’s beautiful face as she leans over me appraisingly; and again her full breasts almost surge out of the low-cut top. Then she swiftly pulls a purple latex discipline hood over my face, so the last sight I see of her, is a cruel belittling gaze.

I hold my breath as she pulls the hood down enough so the tiny air holes for my mouth and nose line up. Then she slides down the rear zip from the crown of my head to the nape of my neck, until my face is squeezed into a tight and almost airless package. My eyes open to find only purple-tinged darkness, and I am acutely aware of each struggling breath as I inhale sharply through the resistance of the small breathing holes. My neck is compressed too, but Mistress is just beginning to have her fun with her naughty slut.

Sharply yanking my helmeted head back, she shoves the hard posture collar under my chin, then draws it tight around my neck and closes it in one swift movement. I hear the first padlock click into place with chilling finality. Then my red rubber ball-gag is thrust between my lips. The restraining straps are buckled into place behind my head and the identical locks snapped shut to secure it tight. I am sightless and speechless and there is no escape, until my Mistress decides to grant me the key.

I am made to stand on tip-toe with my feet forced apart, swaying blindly. Cord ropes are used to bind my forearms together, and my wrists are drawn up tautly to the ceiling bolt. My ever-thoughtful Mistress has turned up the music so the neighbours wouldn’t hear anything untoward. Even I am prevented from hearing the warning swish of her swinging cane! She warms up my bottom with some light taps from her leather paddle, the strokes spaced several seconds apart, so that I can appreciate each one individually. Then my Mistress gradually increases the strength of her blows, and the next ten have me bouncing and gasping in my restraints. She pauses to remind me what a dirty little slut I’ve been and why I’m being punished, before another sharp thwack sends sparks flashing into the purple haze.

"Why are you giggling, you silly slut? Obviously, you must think this is pretty funny! You know what this means, don’t you? It means you require harsher punishment."

Several times I must wait in suspense as Mistress chooses a new implement; before the strokes commence again.

"Stop giggling you mindless slut! You are starting to really annoy me!"

When she starts using the cane on my tenderised bottom, the air is whistling through the nose holes in my discipline hood like a kettle boiling. But this time something’s different. This is the sensually pleasant bit. I become highly aware of the coarse rope cutting into my bare shoulders when she unhooks my wrists from above. I feel the rough caress of the rope as it slithers and slides around me, and the delicate skipping pressure of my Mistress' busy little hands.

My divine Mistress backs me into a chair. Not the wooden one, but one made of strong dark grey metal.

"Sit!" growls my Mistress.

The cold unyielding surface is somewhat cooling on my nicely warmed up lacerated cheeks. Mistress pushes me back firmly against the immovable back rest and drapes my bound arms around the hard metal structure. I perch in the darkness and await developments. I am surprised by the touch of more rope around my right wrist, and find it wedded to the chair leg like a rapidly spun web. The left wrist shortly follows suit.

Mistress snarls; "Spread ‘em!" and kicks the inside of my ankles apart with one of her sexy heels.

Shortly my ankles are cuffed and are held wide apart by a rigid steel spreader bar, no less unyielding than the chair! There is a slight tug and my feet start to irresistibly rise in the air, drawn higher and higher by a rope I can't see.

With a bit of tugging and some encouragement from her crop, I am soon in a very vulnerable position, with my legs spread wide and perched high in the air. But matters do not stop there. Mistress tugs one more time, and I feel the chair start to tip backwards. Suddenly, it tilts back alarmingly and I begin to fall backwards into an unknown abyss! But my cunning Mistress has hold of the chair and the awful falling sensation pauses on the brink of slamming me to the ground!

"Did you enjoy that, slave girl?" she coos silkily as I bob and sway, my grunts of alarm well muffled by the tight gag.

Unseen by me, she has quietly tied a rope to the chair back to stop it from falling further, but to me it seems I am teetering permanently on the edge of an endless backwards plummet.

Mistress toys with my nipple rings while enjoying my vulnerability and plotting how to take further advantage of it. All is quiet for a short while, but I dare not move, as I have no knowledge about the securing rope which stops the backward fall. I am heavier than my delicate Mistress, and I fear if I wriggle or squirm she may lose her grip, and drop me on my head! The tight posture collar will make sure that the back of my head will hit the ground first, and that could hurt! Something drops on my tender inner thigh - something hot! Seconds elapse before my grunting and writhing ceases, and then another burning drop splashes on the other thigh. Soon the hot raindrops are falling thick and fast, each bringing a delicious sting. From my excited muffled moans and gasps, my beautiful Mistress can tell that I am loving this way too much! So, Mistress decides to abandon the hot wax, reminding me that this is supposed to be a punishment, not a reward!

"Oh thank you, my wonderful Mistress!" I thought gleefully anyway.

A long pause makes me wonder if it’s time to wind up maybe. I hear Mistress disappear into the bathroom to powder her nose while allowing me to become more familiar with the cold hard steel under me. I am bound to the precarious security of the seat while still teetering in space, until our relationship is almost intimate. Time has no bearing at this point, as I am left to rely upon Mistress’ desire to keep me in bondage until she deems fit that I be released.

Upon returning, Mistress unties one of my arms, and I become aware of the discomfort of my position, and quietly yearn for release.

"Just a moment slave girl," Mistress murmurs in warning.

"I've merely thought of a more… attractive way of binding your arms!"

My arms are untied one at a time and re-tied in a new way. I'm tilted far back in the chair with my bound legs so high in the air, there is not even a fleeting hint of freedom! Release will come much later, but only when my gorgeous Mistress decides. There's not much I can say about it – not through my red rubber gag or through these tiny air holes!