Long Weekend 02 - Evening duties

I nodded to My Master sitting in the armchair, gathered my dress from the floor and struggled to my feet. I made my way back to the hallway and, picking up my bags, took the stairs one step at a time up to the landing.

I made my way to the small box room at the front of the house. The small room is sparsely furnished with a plain single pine bed upon which sits a plastic covered mattress. No pillows. There was a single bed sheet and blanket folded neatly on the bed.

I had ironed them and placed them there last week before I left.

I dropped my bags and started taking my belongings out; all items that My Owner had commanded me to buy or had bought for me. Next I hung up the 50s sheath dress on the hook behind the door and placed my freshly laundered stockings, girdles, nighties and camisoles in the top drawer of the bedside table alongside the ones already in there.

Finally I shook out two clean maid's dresses and laid them out on the bed before me, a nylon slip and two starched, clean aprons.

I sat down on the stool in front of the table and checked my makeup. A bit of repair work was needed up before I returned downstairs. My eye shadow needed a bit more black blending in and my waterline needed a bit more liner. I did the best I could with my lipstick given the gag locked into my mouth. Finally more mascara to make my eyes really pop and flutter.

I pulled the nylon slip over my head and settled it over my girdle and thighs. I picked up the plainer of the maid's dresses from the bed. It was a black cotton maid's dress that I had made myself. It would not look out of place in a hotel or restaurant in the 50's, 60's or even the 70's. I dropped it to the floor, stepped into it gingerly with my chained ankles and pulled it up before zipping it behind me.

I kicked off my shoes and moved them under the bed, before reaching for a pair of patent leather, black, open toed shoes from under the table. Sitting on the bed I slipped my feet into the shoes and checked that the toe section of the stockings were just peeking out. Master likes toe cleavage. Opening the top drawer, I pulled out the leather heel locking straps and buckled them tightly.

I picked up the plain white apron and stood up to tie it around my waist before smoothing down the dress, checking my stockings for ladders or wrinkles and then, after a deep calming breath, I made my way carefully and slowly downstairs back to the lounge.

My Owner was sitting in the armchair looking at his phone. Without looking up he said, "Fetch me a whisky Sissy. The Caol Ila 16 and two cubes of ice please."

I bowed my head and turned on my heels towards the drinks cabinet. I pulled a crystal glass from the display and reached for the whisky bottles. I poured generous helping of the golden whisky into the glass and then popped the top off the ice bucket.

It was empty.

I shuffled to the kitchen to find that the ice maker was empty and the freezer devoid of ice. My heart raced as I realised what this meant.

Shuffling back into the lounge, I picked up the whisky glass, knelt in front of my Owner and bowed my head.

Master set his phone down on the arm of the chair and regarded me, "No ice Sissy?", he queried.

I could only shake my head in response.

"I know there's no ice Sissy. You should have known that the ice machine might not have been switched on and bought ice when you were out shopping. You should be anticipating my needs by now," as he held out his hand.

I bowed my head and nodded as I handed him the whisky.

"There's some fresh pasta in the fridge, I'll have that for supper but before you head into the kitchen, make me a fire, it's a bit chilly this evening."

I nodded and started shuffling over to the fireplace before My Master called me back.

"Slut. Some back here a sec will you?"

I turned and shuffled back to him.

"Hold out your hands," he ordered casually.

I held my hands out in front of me and he re-locked the chain that joined my wrist cuffs together. He then locked the D rings of each starched white cuff of the dress with padlocks.

"Turn around and kneel down," he said as he twirled his fingers.

I did as he commanded and felt him padlock the zip of my dress into place using the D rings sewn there. He did the same with my apron.

He then placed a leather hood over my head and pulled it around my neck before closing the rear zip, strapping it tight and padlocking it in place. I felt the weight of the padlock as it dropped onto my neck. My mouth was now doubly gagged so I could only breathe through the nose holes.

I felt my feet moving slightly as he padlocked the heel straps to lock my high heels in place.

Master raised the hem of my dress and rubbed his hands across and under my bottom. After patting my buttocks, he ran his hands underneath and around my cage before pulling on the plug in my bottom once or twice.

He grunted and then patted my shoulder, "Off you go now."

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30 minutes later there was a fire burning nicely in the log burner while My Master sat at the table reading a book. He was listening to his favourite opera playlist on the Sonos as he savoured the pasta I had prepared for him. A fresh glass of whisky (now with ice thanks to the ice maker) was at his elbow. I had cooked the ready prepared tortellini from the fridge and served it in a tomato, shallot, chilli, garlic and herb sauce finished off with grated Parmesan.

He tapped his knee and, taking his cue, I knelt down beside him on the floor resting my head and shoulder against his leg. This was my favourite place as well he knew. I liked sitting below but next to him. He concentrated on his book as he slowly savoured his supper to the glorious sounds of Madam Butterfly and Cavalieria Rusticana.

In due course he stretched his arms above him, yawned and eased the tension from his neck by moving his head from side to side.

With a contented sigh he looked down at me and smiled.

"I like having you here with me Sissy," he began.

"I like it that you love serving me," he continued as he stroked my hood and neck straps. These slight touches brought me out in goose pimples.

The grip on my hood tightened as he added, "But. I don't. Like it. When you. Make. MISTAKES!", empathising each phrase by forcefully shaking my head.

He then let go of my head, "Obviously I have not trained you enough yet."

Master stood up. My eyes followed him as he pulled open the table drawer and pulled out a thin cane.

"Bend over the table slut," he stated flatly and firmly.

I struggled to my chained feet, shuffled closer to the table and, bending at the waist, placed my cuffed and chained hands on the table in front of me. Bending like this I could feel the stockings being pulled even tighter up my legs and the plug trying to work itself out.

My owner moved behind me. I heard the swish of the cane as he practised a swing or two before raising the hem of my dress and tucking it into the apron straps.

He pushed on my back until I was pressed against the table surface and then said calmly, "Four strokes Christine," I don't want to leave a mark.

With a sharp crack the first stroke hit my bottom.

"One," he said as I jerked and twitched my legs up in a reflective, uncontrolled reaction.

With another sharp crack, the cane hit me in the same place and, once again I jerked. My knees and legs gave way under me as I bit onto the gag and tried to cry out in pain.

"That's two Sissy," Master said while holding me firmly to the table top with his hand on the small of my back.

The third crack hit my behind slightly higher up, just below the hem of my girdle and was, thankfully, less painful but still enough to make me jerk and cry out behind the gag and hood.

"Number three slut," My Master shouted over the top of my muffled cry.

There was an agonising pause before, after a practice swish, the final stroke hit me where my thighs met my bottom.

With a final gagged scream of shock my legs gave way and I crumpled to the floor, the hem of my dress coming free as I dropped. The plug twitching inside me in time with my shaking bottom.

"And that's four Christine. You must remember that I take little pleasure in punishing you. Some, of course, but not a great deal. I expect you to do your best and, when you don't, I have to punish you. Now please tidy up the things from the table and join me in the master bedroom."

With that he turned quickly and I heard him make his way upstairs leaving me in a heap by the dining table.

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After sorting out the dishwasher and tidying the living room, I climbed the stairs carefully and slowly. The length of the chain between my ankles prevented me from moving at speed and my stinging bottom rubbed against the cool of the nylon slip and the weight of the cotton uniform.

Once on the landing I turned and entered the master bedroom. My Owner lay on the bed, his upper torso resting against the pillows on the headboard.

He was naked and his cock rested semi-hard against the top of his leg.

I shuffled across towards him and stood by the side of the bed closest to him. He took my hands in his and smiled at me as he unlocked the chain from my wrist cuffs.

"Wall," came the single command.

I shuffled over to the wall and opening my legs as wide as the chain would allow, placed my hands onto the wall and bowed my head.

The bed creaked slightly as Master got up to stand behind me. I felt him unlock my apron and my maid's dress.

He drew down the rear zip at an agonisingly slow, tantalising, seductive speed.

He tapped my thigh and I closed my legs together and as he squatted down he slowly teased the dress and slip down to my feet. He caressed my bottom where it was still smarting from the cane and then lingered on my thighs where my stockings were held tight by the suspenders.

He gently caressed the backs of my knees and my calves then, pulling each ankle up in turn, he removed my uniform to leave the apron hanging from my neck. I heard him drop the uniform onto the floor.

"Stand straight and take off your apron Sissy" he whispered.

I stood straight and pulled the apron over my neck and hood. I dropped it beside me next to the dress.

I stood in my girdle, stockings and heels feeling vulnerable and incredibly aroused. A string of pre-cum was hanging from the end of the tetherspout that stood out slightly from the end of the stainless steel chastity cage.

My eyes were closed and I was breathing heavily as he grasped the end of the plug still lodged deep inside me and gave it a twist. I jerked as I felt his other hand reach around me to toy with my leaking caged, straining cock.

He caressed and teased the cage a few times as he whispered into my ear, "Would you like me to take your cage off and allow you to play with yourself until you cum Sissy?"

I nodded and moaned into my gag and hood.

He pulled on the cage and added, "No, I don't think that will happen Sissy. You were milked in your cage with the wand three months ago as I recall, so I think you have at least three more months to go."

With that he let go of my cage and stepped back away from me. I heard him pick something up from the bed and step back towards me.

"Hadu," came the single barked command.

I stepped back away from the wall and dropped to a kneeling position with my legs wide open. I straightened my back and placed my hands, palms uppermost, on my thighs and bowed my head.

My Master unlocked the hood and ball gag and pulled them off my head. I stretched my lips and waggled my tongue briefly before I felt a large ring gag being pushed between my lips and a harness being fitted over my head. Once more I heard (and felt) straps being tightened and padlocked.

My Master patted the top of my head with one hand, "Comfortably uncomfortable Sissy?" he asked.

I nodded emphatically and mumbled in genuine happy affirmation. Master knew how much I loved being controlled like this, how much I loved being gagged and being placed in restraints.

How well he knows.

"Good girl," came the contented reply, "Now get onto the bed and lie on your front Sissy."

I stood up and shuffled over to the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed and swivelled my legs up and over. I then wriggled over onto to my front as commanded.

I felt the bed shift slightly as my Master got up beside me. He wrapped a stretchy bandage around my head over my eyes a number of times, then he pulled each of my arms above my head and handcuffed them to the headboard.

He began stroking my legs, tracing up from each locked heel to the tight welt and clips of my stockings and then down again with his hands. He bent and started kissing my bottom and then kissed each leg. I was shivering in delight as his hands and lips traced up and down each leg sensuously and slowly. I was leaking copiously onto the bed.

I felt him take each foot in turn, unlock the heel restraints and remove my high heels. He caressed each foot slowly before kissing and nibbling each set of stocking clad toes.

"Such sexy feet," he mumbled quietly, almost to himself, "so fuckable."

I felt him unlock and remove the ankle chain as my breathing and pulse quickened. I clenched and unclenched my hands as he took my toes into his mouth and gently sucked my nylon toes before locking the ankle cuffs directly together.

He got up from the bed to return a few seconds later then pulled my legs up into a bent position. I felt something being fastened to the back of the head harness. A rope of some kind dropped onto my back as he threaded it between my locked ankles and tied my legs and head into a face-down hogtie. This stretched my spine and pulled my head up from the bed uncomfortably as well as raising my knees from the bed.

Despite the discomfort I was so turned on. Master was using me as he saw fit. I was nothing except his fuck toy and I hoped he would fuck me. I wanted him to fuck me. I needed him to fuck me. To breed me. To take me. Hard. Like this.

He returned to stroking my legs, feet and thighs as he quietly kissed and sucked the reinforced areas of the stockings. He gently bit into and stretched each in turn and sensuously rubbed his lips and tongue over the nylon foot seams.

I felt him rub his hard, hot, cock on my soles. Slowly circling each set of toes and sole in turn with his wonderful prick.

I heard his breath getting quicker and heard him gasp as the nylon rubbed over the head of his cock.

The pleasure I was feeling stemmed from the contentment it gave My Master to play with my stockinged feet and from the sensations of his cock moving over my nylon encased feet.

He folded the top of one foot over the sole of the other and started fucking my nylon feet. Rubbing the entire length of his cock between my clasped feet. I reciprocated by moving my feet to wank him off with the limited movement I had in my tied position.

I was moaning though my ring gag as the feeling overtook me. I was desperate to cum almost as much as I wanted Master to feel pleasure but I knew, deep down, that would not happen. I dropped those thoughts and started to focus on giving my Master a nylon footjob.

As I increased the pace that I waggled my toes and moved my feet, I could hear my Master groaning.

He stopped moving and let me take over.

"Yeah Sissy. That's it. Give me those sexy toes. Oh yes...mmm yes," he moaned hoarsely.

As I found the pace and movement that gave him the most pleasure, I heard him whisper, "Just like that. I'm going to cum. Keep going. That's it."

After a few minutes of this he grabbed both of my feet and started frantically fucking them. Taking control of me and my feet.

Harder and faster as he got closer and closer to cumming.

"Aaaah....fuck...fuuuuck, " he cried out as with a last frantic thrust and a tight grip on my feet, he spurted his hot cum. Some of his spurts landing on my legs and still hot rear. Spattering my stockings with thick ropes of his sticky cum.

He stayed like that for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts and breath. I could hear his breathing slow as he continued to rub my feet with his hands and clean the last vestiges of cum onto my feet and toes.

"Jesus Sissy. I love your sexy feet."

"Thank you Sir," I tried to say but all that came out was a tortured mumble through the very wet ring gag still fastened tightly into my mouth.

I felt him untie me and I gratefully settled my head back down onto the bed as he lowered my feet.

I shuffled and shifted to help as he pulled the quilt out from under me. He threw it over the both of us as I settled down on my side, still cuffed, shackled, gagged, plugged and blindfolded. I tried to find a comfortable position as he spooned me from behind.

His breathing slowed to a satisfied sleep as I listened contentedly.

I relaxed and drifted away happily chained to the bed. My Owner's bed. My Master's bed. My legs covered in My Master's cooling sperm.