I stroked David’s head absently as the end credits music played and looked down at my sweet little sub, then did a double take. I was lying along the sofa, my head propped on the arm of the sofa, with him lying ontop of me on his tummy, his head just under my breasts as he snuggled into me, my one arm thrown over his back.

And he’d actually fallen asleep.

I stared at him, not able to believe it. I mean, yes, he hadn’t got much sleep last night, what with the vibe and headphones, and yes, it was before noon, which was before the usual wake up time of uni students, but I couldn’t believe it. There he was in my tight red leather catsuit, his arms pulled back in a strict armbinder, a ballgag underneath a black hood that only left those gorgeous green eyes exposed, in the arms of his captor in a strange house after being effectively raped this morning, and he was asleep?

I continued to watch him carefully. Maybe he was faking – hoping that if he pretended to be asleep I’d leave him alone? A soft tremor ran down his spine as I watched, and he nuzzled deeper into my chest with a sleepy little sigh. If that was an act, it was worthy of a BAFTA.

A little warm glow appeared behind my heart as I looked down at him. I was used to that powerful possessive thrill, that moment of sheer ‘mine!’, but this was… something else. Something precious. Less than 24 hours ago, I’d violated just about every human right; broken into his house, kidnapped him… and here he was, so relaxed with me that he’d actually fallen asleep. You have to feel safe to snooze on some-one, and to feel safe, you have to trust them.

“Oh my sweet little sub,” I murmured, kissing the top of his hooded head. “I could get so fond of you.”

I hadn’t expected it to go like this. This was the first time I’d ever taken full control. With my ex’s there had always been safewords, always been ‘we can only play until 4 because I’m meeting Margaret at the club’, this was my first true, selfish take. I had expected a much longer period of rebellion than this.

But then, I reminded myself, he’s probably just wiped out from all of the exertions of this morning and last night. That rebellion might suddenly spring back up while I was off my guard. In which case, I should take precautions, I mean, a young beautiful woman like me, with a desperate man like him in the house? I needed to ensure my own safety, right?

I snorted at my own joke, then very gently slid my arms underneath him. He gave a soft mumble as I, inch by careful inch, slid out from underneath him and laid him back onto the leather sofa. I watched him closely to see if he’d wake up, but he just gave a moan and ground his hips into the sofa slightly, eyes still peaceably closed. Horny git, I thought, amused. But then, if you were going to kidnap a young man…

I hesitated, caught in indecision, then told myself firmly to woman up and be more decisive, I was the domme after all. Plus… if he tried the front door, I would definitely know about it. A smirk touching my lips, I walked calmly back through the kitchen and into the dungeon, wandering along my racks until I found just the right thing. Perfect. I turned back towards the door, ready to head back to my sweet little boy.

And then I heard the garbled screaming from the hall.

Damnit. He had been faking after all. All my warm fuzzy glow and gentle kindness was forcibly ejected as my sadistic bitchqueen from hell made her dramatic entrance. Returning the soft leather harness and cuffs to the racks, I took my time selecting my new weapons, ignoring the soft thumps and muffled pleas from above. Thin, harsh hemp rope was exactly what that inconsiderate arsehole deserved. I picked up a pendant from a hook on the wall, a large plastic fob with soft rubbery buttons, rather like a garage opening remote, hung on a bootstrap. I’d been rather proud of this bit of engineering and I hung it around my neck with the air of a Sheildmaiden getting ready for war as I strode back towards the door to the kitchen.

I paused at the bottom of the steps. No. I was going to need my domme boots for this.

I stalked down the hall, towering over him as he writhed on the doormat, eyes screwed shut, wildly humping mid-air as the buttplug deep inside him had a field day. I watched him for a moment, intrigued, a lioness surveying a trapped gazelle, then put my boot firmly on his chest, digging the 6 inch stiletto heel into his sternum as I glared down at him. He looked up at me, his eyes wide and beseeching, but the bitchqueen reigned and he was going to pay for summoning her wroth.

“You little worm,” I breathed, spiking the word with all the loathing I could master, making it more venomous than the worst swearword. “You evil, vile little cockroach. How dare you?”

I watched him flinch at the words, and the devil within me just laughed, drinking it in, feeding on his fear.

“Did you really think I would leave you free to escape?” I demanded. “Do you really think I’m that stupid little Davey boy? Surprise!”

I gave him a wild maniacal smile that made him shrink further into the doormat.

“You obviously don’t listen, do you, so do yourself a favour and thick as you are, pay attention,” I drawled. “I told you that I’d… improved that little toy in your arse. I can see you’re enjoying it.”

David groaned, closing his eyes and gave a soft little moan as the plug inside him kept up it’s little assault. His eyes snapped back open as I drove my heel a little further into his chest.

“I said pay attention,” I snarled softly, in my lowest, most dangerous, tone yet.

He nodded wildly, eyes wide, desperate to please now.

“As you might have noticed, I’m pretty tech-savvy,” I said quietly. “And that plug is very smart. It knows which area of the house it’s in, and what setting it should be in each. Go near any of the doors or windows, and you’ll find yourself in a similar state to the one you’re in now. Not fun, is it?”

I leant forwards, adopting a dangerous, confidential tone.

“Want to know the truly terrifying thing about that babe? That’s only on the 3rd highest setting.”

David’s eyes widened in fear. I leant over him further.

“Perhaps I should march you down to the front gate so you can experience the highest setting, hmm?” I breathed softly.

He shook his head frantically. I glared at him, then kicked him over onto his front and pinned him in place with my boot on his wiggling butt, driving his captured cock into the harsh bristles of the doormat, then yanked away the armbinder. No gentle restraints for him. I forced his arms into a reverse prayer position and cruelly lashed them together with the rough hemp rope, hands palm to palm, wrists, and forearms crushed together. I looped more rope around his upper arms, then toed him back over, sitting on his thighs as I tied an intricate harness over his chest and arms, yanking every knot tight, crushing and confining him, until he could feel every ounce of my most serious displeasure. I finished it up with a crotch rope giving him a hemp wedgie, rope grating either side of his caged dick, then formed some tight rope cuffs around his legs at mid-thigh and just above his knees, effectively hobbling him.

I paused a moment to admire my work, breathing hard, in exertion or temper, I wasn’t sure, then grabbed him by the harness and yanked him upright, pinning him against the stairs bannister. The moment he was moved away from the door, the vibrations running through him from the butt plug died, but the look of terror in his eyes certainly didn’t.

“I was going to save the tour for later, but being as you’ve shown so much interest in where I live, I suppose I have to oblige,” I said sweetly, still crushing him against the balustrade, taking the lead still attached to his collar and clipping it onto the belt-loop of my trousers.

I knew it probably wouldn’t take much effort for him to tear the loop off my jeans, but I was rather counting on fear taking hold now. If he did break it, I would pummel 5 shades of hell out of that cute little arse. I’d tan it so hard he wouldn’t be able to sit down for a month. That savage thought twisting my face into a smile, I showed him the little plastic keyfob around my neck.

“See this?” I asked him.

He nodded nervously.

“This is one of my little inventions, and I’m so very proud of it,” I told him sweetly. “It’s directly hooked up to your little friend, you know, the one deep in your tushie?”

I felt a soft shudder run through him at the mention of the butt-plug and gave his butt a swift little smack for good measure.

“Right, so, on the odd occasion I leave the house, for work, or shopping or for some other reason, in the vague off chance that I ever trust you again free in the house, I’ll take this with me,” I explained calmly. “And you see here, this little section in the back?”

I turned it over and popped open part of the case to reveal a hollow within.

“This is where I put the key for your chastity belt,” I told him, pulling the key from my pocket and waving it in-front of his nose.

He instinctively made a lunge for it, but I calmly dropped it into the case and snapped the lid back in place.

“See this dial here?” I asked him, showing him the back of the case. “This is a time lock. And it lets me decide how long I want to lock you away for. 1 hour. 2… 8… 24… it goes all the way up to 168 hours, a whole week of deprivation. Imagine that…”

I could tell by the look of horror in his eyes, that that was exactly what he was doing and I felt my heart shimmy in sadistic delight. I thought about ramping it all the way up to the maximum, but… My mother had been a hard woman, but she had been right about threats and punishments. You never promised the absolute worst punishment, because you have nowhere left to go after that. You let them know that the worst punishment was available, and gave them just enough of a bad punishment, just a little taster of what you could do, that the fear of the worst punishment increased. Headology. It’s how you keep husbands, small children and dogs in line.

Plus, after the stellar sex of this morning, I didn’t want to have to wait a week.

“Hmmm… how long do you think for this little debacle?” I asked him casually, flicking the dial around. “1 day? 2?”

David made a garbled noise of protest and my eyebrows shot up.

“You think 3? I agree, that’s exactly what you deserve,” I shoved the dial up to the 72 hour mark and heard it click into place. “Now not even I can get it out until 72 hours are up.”

I let that terror sink into him. 3 days minimum of absolutely no release. It gave me such a savage thrill to see the realisation crash over him. He didn’t need to know that with some patience and a sewing needle, there was a reset button for the time lock. Another one of my mother’s rules; if you made a threat, you had to carry it out. Sure, my vibrator was going to take more of a beating in those days, but that was a fair price to pay for increased obedience. I nudged his cock with my knee.

“Sorry ickle Daveykins, but no more nice sex for you because actual Davey is a bigger dick than you,” I cooed, then looked up at David, grabbing him by the collar. “Now we’ve ensured that your brain has dibs on the blood supply, let me show what else this little gadget does,” I continued, showing him the fob again. “It has a built in GPS. Once I get out of range of the house, it triggers your little plug into ‘slave free in the house’ mode. Shall I demonstrate what that means?”

I pressed a button on the fob, and the green light at the top turned red. David moaned softly as the butt plug inside him started up again at a medium-intense setting.

“Now, here’s the bit you’ll really love,” I told him softly. “It’s room sensitive. Here, in the hall, it’s just a gentle little buzz to remind you that you’re a little close to the door.”

I caught his lead and yanked him back into the kitchen and felt him give a soft sigh as the plug reduced in intensity.

“In the dungeon and the kitchen, it’s just be a nice, pleasurable little tickle to remind you that this is where a slave should be,” I told him coldly. “This is where you belong when I’m not around Davey – are we clear?”

David nodded rapidly. I turned my back on him and stalked into the living room, dragging him along with me. I felt him shudder as the vibe kicked up a notch.

“Here, in the living room, it’s a bit more of a tease, to remind you that you shouldn’t be in here without me,” I told him, leading him through to the back of the living room to the conservatory. “And here, so perilously close to the outdoors…”

The moment he crossed the threshold into the conservatory, I felt the buzz become more high-pitched, an excited whine, and David gave a low groan in response, his knees buckling slightly. I walked up to him so we were stood virtually stood nose to nose, although I was looking slightly down at him in my high heels, forcing him to look up at me.

“Do you want to see what happens if you go near the back door into the garden?” I breathed, nodding towards the door on my left.

He shook his head quickly and I gave a low laugh.

“Thought not,” I said quietly. “Just to let you know, if you do go near those doors while the security is on, the setting will remain on high until I switch it off, or until you crawl the entire way back into the dungeon and lock yourself into your cage to await punishment.”

I put a hand on his chest and pushed him slightly towards the door feeling him resist me with all the strength he had. It was tempting, just to try it out, but that way I’d never get around to finishing the rest of the tour. I turned sharply on my heel and strode from the room, forcing him to mince after me, the lead taut between us. Back through the living room, and kitchen and back into the hall. I didn’t even bother to hide my sneer as he virtually slid along the bannister to keep himself as far away from the front door as he could.

“That is the guest’s bathroom,” I pointed to a door at the foot of the stairs. “You are not a guest, so it is not for you. Use it at your peril.”

Dave nodded quickly. I gestured for him to go up the stairs with a sweet little smile, pulling a riding crop from the umbrella stand by the front door.

“After you.”

He sidled awkwardly past me, clearly not wanting to expose his probably still smarting rear to me, before taking the stairs as quickly as he could… only to freeze about the 5th step up. I followed slowly, swishing the crop absently through the air to make it give an impressive whistling noise.

“Something wrong Davey?” I purred, tapping it oh-so-gently against his thigh to remind him to keep moving.

I knew what was wrong of course. With every step he went up, the intensity of the vibrations were going fractionally up too. It was a slow, gradual thing, but I could tell he could feel it as he slowly continued up the stairs, humming softly into his gag. By the time he reached the landing, he was almost panting for breath, the butt plug on it’s medium-high setting.

“To the right, we have my study,” I continued the tour. “Go on, open the door.”

As he bumped it open with his foot, I saw the tremor go through him, and he backed up instantly, barely paying any attention to my little sanctuary as the spikes of pleasure coursed through him.

“Ahead we have the airing cupboard,” I continued. “And to the left of that is my spare room and the upstairs bathroom. Again, they are for guests, and not for you.” I spun on my heels and strode along the landing, pulling him along in my wake. “And this, is my bedroom.”

I pushed the door open and yanked him in after me. I was so glad that the moment ‘security mode’ was engaged all my little spy cameras turned themselves on, because I wanted to watch this moment over again and again and again, and then maybe make David watch it too. The butt plug in him gave a high-pitched excited whine and David gave a colossal shudder, physically falling to his knees in front of me as I, the picture of demure grace, took a seat on my kingsized bed and watched him contort and writhe in his bonds.

Pure, pure ambrosia.

I put my boot on his shoulder and folded my arms on it, leaning slightly forwards.

“My exes always told me that boundaries were important, and now you know exactly where all yours are, and have that lovely little reminder waiting to tell you every time you step out of line. You are not to enter my room unless I give you express permission to be in here. I trust we’re clear Dave,” I said quietly.

David nodded wildly. I watched him calmly, still swishing the crop absently.

“Now, let me tell you what’s going to happen,” I continued. “I’m going to take your hood and gag off and you’re going to apologise for trying to run out on me and overstepping your boundaries. If I’m satisfied with the apology, I will return the house to it’s normal setting and your little friend can go back to sleep. If I’m not satisfied, I’m going to strap you back to that spanking bench, whip you until my arm hurts and then leave you tied upside down on my St. Andrew’s cross for the rest of the weekend.” I gave him my best psychotic smile. “Your call darling.”

I tugged off the hood and unbuckled the ball gag, leaving it hanging around his neck like the bondage parody of a necklace. David knelt there for a moment, panting for breath, trying to gather himself, then another shudder ran through him and he gave a soft gasp, momentarily closing those wonderful green eyes.

Then, to my utter surprise, he leant over and started to kiss my boots. They were real fuck-me heels that went all the way up to my knee and he covered their entire length, nuzzling up along my calf and dropping a sneaky little peck to the inside of my knee, just above the top of the boot. My heart gave a soft flutter. It wasn’t what I had been expecting, that much was true, I’d expected some garbled, stammering apology, but this…

The boy was smart.

I hooked my finger through his collar and drew his face up to mine, my other hand sliding into the waves of his hair, trapping them between my fingers as I passionately kissed him, feeling a surge of heady pleasure as he submitted to me. I leant back, blowing out a soft breath.

“Well,” I said after a moment. “Not bad slave.”

He gave me the most endearingly shy little smile. Ah hell. I pressed the button on the fob and felt him relax, dropping his head forwards onto my lap as the butt plug feel silent inside him. I stroked his hair again absently.

“Sorry Mistress,” he said quietly from my lap.

I leant forwards and kissed the crown of his head.

“I daresay I’ll eventually forgive you,” I told him lightly, then gave him a gentle nudge with my boot. “Get up.”

He instantly sat up, then struggled to his feet, his legs still bound together, and I got up too, running my hands over his rubber clad body, giving his butt a luxurious squeeze while I was there. I rested my forearms on his shoulders, arms loosely wrapped around his neck as I gazed at him for a long moment.

Now what to do with him? I thought. The only problem with being a domme is that you have to keep coming up with ideas – you can’t keep using the same ones otherwise it gets boring. He was already in the middle of his punishment and I’d already beaten him today, I didn’t want that to get stale… I glanced out of the window at the warm summer sunshine outside and an evil thought crossed through my mind.

I unbuckled the gag from around his neck and held it up to him.

“Open wide.”

David gave me a slightly pleading look, then sighed and obediently opened his mouth.

“Aaah.”

I slid the ballgag back in, then buckled it up, sliding the Gwendoline hood back into place over the top and running a finger down his exposed nose.

“So cute,” I told him, dropping a kiss on the very tip of it.

The hint of a blush crept across the tops of his cheeks and his eyes immediately dropped to the carpet. I grinned slightly.

“I know blokes have problems sometimes accepting compliments,” I told him. “But you are incredibly attractive Davey. Cute enough to kidnap, in fact.”

The blush deepened. I made a note to myself to see just how far down that blush went someday. I leant down and untied the ropes around his legs. It was going to be dangerous enough going downstairs in a rubber body suit without his legs being restricted, I thought, but I saw no particular reason to release the crotch rope. That could stay put.

“Turn,” I commanded and David obediently turned.

I started to calmly adapt the harness, loosening it slightly so it was more comfortable, but still snug against him, then converting the severe reverse prayer tie into a more comfortable box tie, hearing the soft sigh of relief as I did.

“Okay,” I patted his back gently. “Come on then.”

We took it slow and steady going back along the landing and down the stairs, David following along on the end of the lead still clipped to my jeans. I stuffed my crop back into the umbrella stand and, as we passed through the kitchen, I picked up the bowl of fruit off the table.

“I think a late lunch on the patio is called for,” I observed calmly, enjoying the slight stutter the statement caused in my slave. “Come on.”

He followed me with a slight resistance, but by the time we’d reached the door out of the conservatory onto the patio, he full on stalled.

“Come on,” I told him firmly. “Otherwise I’ll go back and chase you out with my riding crop.”

He didn’t see me flip a switch on the fob which disarmed the door security, and as he cautiously stepped onto the patio, I saw him grimace… and then for nothing to happen.

“There, now don’t you look silly?” I asked him cheerily.

I picked up one of the heavy metal chairs and dragged it over to a sunny patch on the one side of the patio, then caught David by the waist and pushed him firmly against it, so he was effectively stood behind it, his back set against the back of the chair.

“Stay,” I commanded, then pulled the rope I’d removed from his legs from over my shoulder.

I crouched down, firmly tying each ankle to the leg of the chair with sturdy rope cuffs. Picking up my gardening scissors that I’d left on the patio table, I cut this off, then circled around David, tying the rope onto the harness in a way that it would tighten all the ropes if he pulled on it, then gave a gentle tug on it. David didn’t understand what I wanted at first, then he slowly realised. He leant back until his head was almost resting on the seat of the chair, the metal back of the seat pressing against his lower back, pushing his pelvis forwards and leaving his caged cock very exposed. He realised this after a second and tried to straighten up, but it was too late, I’d fed the rope under the metal seat, under the cross bar of the chair between the legs, then back up between his legs to tie snugly onto the crotch rope currently digging a wedgie into his butt-crack and pressing onto either side of his dick. When he tried to straighten up, the harness and crotchrope both tightened, making him give a soft gasp of mingled pleasure and frustration. He yanked on his arms, but they were still tightly secured in their box-tie and going nowhere.

It didn’t take him long to realise that the only way to release the pressure on his crotch was to bend backwards more, pushing his crotch higher into the air. I took the moment to take a few pictures of this delicious pose, then ran my hands up the inside of his thighs, making him squirm against me, gasping as the tension on his crotch rope increased. I leant forwards, folding my arms on his stomach and looking down at him.

“Comfy?” I asked him.

From the slight snarl I got back, I guessed probably not.

“Glad to hear it.”

I patted his tummy, then, as a final flourish, pulled a zipper on the outside of his rubber suit. This zip was designed for ‘easy access’ and as it glided down, out appeared his cock, in all it’s engorged, plastic restrained glory. I ran a finger over its plastic shell, then flicked the little padlock.

“Such a shame,” I remarked. “This position is an amazing way to give a blowjob. Oh well, your loss.”

I gently blew down the holes in the plastic casing, watching him shiver as the cold air hit his most sensitive organ right now, then gave a slight giggle.

“Right,” I said calmly. “I need a book and a glass of lemonade. You want some?”

At the garbled response I shrugged.

“Fair enough, you can always use my glass if you change your mind…”

So there we were, me, sat in the shade, book in one hand, a glass of lemonade in the other, my kinky boots kicked up under the table onto another chair, and my little sub, clad in a red leather catsuit, bent backwards over a chair, struggling gently this way and that, trying to escape the teasing pressure around his manhood. I set my glass down, and picked up a strawberry out of the fruit bowl, admiring my sub. I ran the tip of my tongue down the underside of the strawberry, then clamped my lips around it and gave a soft suck on it, giving a wicked smile as I heard David moan softly.

Definitely an amazing way to spend a summer’s afternoon.