The Craftsman Ch. 01

The Craftsman

I'm a craftsman who works mainly in leather. I have no formal training and nearly everything I know about my craft was earned through trial and error, finding out what worked best for me, and eventually, what worked best for my clients. Each item is made by hand, made to measure, and tailored to fit each individual client exactly. Yes, I am expensive, but there are discerning clients out there who are willing to pay my prices to have my unique and exclusive services. I am always kept busy, and have a waiting list. You won't find me in yellow pages.

My grandfather was a shoemaker, and I don't mean someone who soled, heeled, and repaired shoes in a shopping mall. Yes, he did repair shoes, but only shoes he had made himself. By that, I mean his customers had their shoes hand made by my grandfather, and took them back to him to have them repaired. He hoped I would follow in his footsteps, and would from time to time attempt to pass on his knowledge to me, telling me how to choose the best grades of leather, etc. I loved my grandfather, and didn't like to spoil his illusions, so I was very attentive and genuinely paid attention to what he told me, which stood me in good stead when I later returned to working in leather. When he died, I inherited his tools, which were stored away, until the unlikely day I may have some use for them. I'm glad I kept them.

I won't go into all the details of how I got started in my specialist market, suffice to say that I sort of fell into it accidentally when a chance remark by a woman I met set me to thinking. She told me it was hard to get really well-made items of a certain kind in good quality leather, which reminded me about the tools, my grandfather had left me. I asked her to show me examples of the kind of thing she meant, and after looking at various catalogues, I could see what was required. I told her I could make what she wanted, and she agreed to help me make my first harness. She would describe exactly what she wanted, and I would measure her for it, and refine my manufacturing technique using her as my template. Our mutually beneficial arrangement worked really well, and she was delighted with the harness and other items I made for her.

By now you probably realise that my client base is from the fetish and BDSM community, where my reputation soon spread. One woman would ask the other where they got their leathers, and soon I was working every spare hour in my garden shed until it became more profitable than my full-time day job. I decided to quit the day job, and get myself more professional premises with a small workshop, a changing room and a small showroom and sales area. I soon extended my range from bondage harness to other items in leather such as whips, cat o' nine tails, paddles, etc, etc. These not only extended my range, but gave me extra merchandise to sell, so when a client came in to order a larger item, like a body harness, or leather corset, they might, 'impulse buy,' a smaller item like a whip or paddle, all of which added to the revenue stream.

It's hard work, but I earn ample reward for it, and there are other perks of the job too. I make my items exclusively for women, and the women are all very aware sexually, which means sometimes I get to be incredibly lucky. For instance, towards the end of last year, a woman in her late thirties arrived to enquire about a consultation. She was tall, slim, and sophisticated, very chic. Dark hair immaculately cut, dark brown eyes, bright red lipstick, matching her nail varnish. Her skin was lightly tanned, and her legs were to die for, with trim ankles and extremely high heeled shoes. She was a very, very classy lady and everything about her shrieked, 'Money,' and lots of it. She wasn't a hundred percent sure of what she wanted, so needed to ask my advice. I showed her examples of various items I'd already made, and gave her a small catalogue to take away with her, but as she was leaving she noticed my range of whips, and paddles. 'Mmm... I'd like one or two of those,' she remarked. Going over to the wall where they were displayed she looked at a few thing, but seemed somewhat indecisive. 'What would you recommend?' she asked me. I suggested she have a lighter item to start with, depending on how experienced she was and how much pain she could tolerate, and she admitted to not being very experienced. So, she just couldn't make up her mind, but selected a few items, passing them to me until she decided, and this was where it got interesting.

'I'm still not sure, perhaps you could smack me with a selection to see which ones I like?' I for my part was rather reluctant to comply with her request, not that she wasn't attractive, she was drop dead gorgeous. I just couldn't quite believe that she wanted me to smack her gorgeous bottom. I'm quite a modest guy and believe me when I say, I'm not exactly god's gift to women. Okay, I'm tall enough I suppose, standing just over six foot, and I have a decent physique thanks to the occasional jog and weights. I have short-ish dark hair, blue eyes, good teeth, but I looked 'rugged,' rather than handsome, and despite working in and being part of the fetish community, I don't really fit into their list of 'pigeon holes.' I could never be described as a submissive, I'm too assertive for that, but on the other hand I'm not a natural sadist either. However, my little kink is that I love to give women pleasure in any way 'she' wants, and if being spanked, whipped or whatever makes her happy, then I will inflict pain, but only because it gives her pleasure. She sensed my reluctance and turned those gorgeous eyes on me, and I got the full 'blast' treatment as she looked at me without saying a word. I felt myself go hard as she held my gaze. She came to me then, never taking her eyes from mine, and caressed my cheek gently with that oh so elegant hand, and then she reached up and whispered in my ear.

'Please,' was she all said, one little word, and without any further preamble, she walked back to the shop counter, looked back over her shoulder and smiled that wonderful smile, and I was lost. She pulled her skirt waist high behind her and lay face down on the small countertop, legs spread. She was a woman who was obviously used to getting her own way, so I chose the lightest item to spank her with. 'Pretend I'm a naughty girl, pull my panties down,' she asked breathlessly. Since the panties were so minute that they hardly existed anyway, and she all too obviously was a naughty girl, I didn't see any harm in doing as she asked, and pulled them down to just above her knees. Her parted legs stretching the elastic kept them there. She was fully shaven, her generous labia, pouting openly, a glitter of promised wetness picked up by the light. 'Spank me as hard as you like,' she requested. I hesitated, and then I locked the shop door, because I didn't want another possible customer to walk in on what was about to happen. It's not every day I'm asked to spank a gorgeous woman's bare and beautiful arse, but as the seconds went by, she wriggled her arse enticingly and begged me, 'go on, smack me please.' What else could I do; she might have taken offense and I'd have lost a very promising and valuable new customer? I smacked her.

Two good hard smacks on each cheek of her impressive arse made her cheeks wobble and go bright pink. She let out a little squeal with each stroke, her breathing decidedly faster now. 'Thank you sir,' was all she said in response, and then, echoes of Oliver Twist, 'can I have some more please?' So, I gave her a few more, but harder this time. She moaned out loud, and I could tell she was turned on. 'You must massage my bottom in between bouts of punishment to help with the pain,' she requested. 'It's essential I feel some pleasure as well as the pain to help me choose; it can't all be about the pain; that would be quite artificial.' I obligingly stroked and massaged her bottom very gently, pulling apart her bum cheeks, seeing the little brown star of her arse and releasing juices from her pussy as her pussy lips parted too. There was no doubt my lady was wet and horny, and I, for my part was as hard as could be, and who could blame me, faced with such feminine delights. 'Thank you sir; that feels so good; and soothing too' she gasped out.

I selected a heavier paddle this time - the leather so thick and stiff, it almost felt like wood. This would hurt a lot more I knew, but who was I to question her request? When the paddle made contact on her delicious arse with a loud smacking noise she jumped, and whimpered out loudly; a few more strokes bringing her to the point of pleading, 'No more please sir, that one is very effective, and my bottom is really stinging. Could you massage it again please?' I duly obliged, noticing that her skin looked faintly bruised, as again I gently massaged her glorious arse cheeks. She wriggled, bringing her knees together, letting her panties drop to her ankles where she stepped out of them, and then spread her legs even wider. Once again she thanked me for my tender massaging of her bottom, 'Thank you sir, you're so very kind, and that feels so soothing.' I told her the pleasure was all mine, she looked back over her shoulder at me, and smiled that heart stopping smile again. 'You've punished me severely sir, so now I'm begging you, really begging you to pleasure me too.'

'Was she saying what I thought she was saying?' I thought to myself, so to test the waters, so to speak, I let my hand slide over her buttocks, lower still until I was massaging the inside of her thighs, almost rubbing her pussy. She moaned out loud, resting her head on her forearms and tried to spread her legs wider. I let my hand move closer giving her plenty of warning about what was going to happen. She moaned louder still, wriggling her bottom, obviously trying to rub her pussy against my hand, and so I let my fingers trace along either side of her labia before my middle finger slid between her wet lips. There was no resistance either verbally, or from her pussy, which was now so wet two fingers sank to the knuckles with ease. Her pelvis rotated on my fingers, pushing against my hand to make better contact, and with each stroke of my hand against her velvet wetness she shuddered and moaned loudly. I decided to go for broke, and with my other hand I unbuckled my belt letting my trousers drop round my ankles. My cock was as stiff as it could possibly be, longing to bury himself in her pussy. Using both hands I pulled her lips apart, and let the bulbous knob press against her lips, first sliding him up and down her crevice, soaking and lubricating him with her juices, which made my entry to her wet delight all the easier. Within two or three pushes, I was buried as deep in her amazing pussy as it was possible to be.

'Oh yes, thank you sir,' she cried out, further comments becoming increasingly inarticulate as I stroked away steadily, in and out of her pink hole. She wriggled and pushed, desperate to be fucked, so I hammered into her as hard as I could, which, judging by the noises she made was exactly what she wanted. When I smacked her bottom experimentally again as I fucked her, she went absolutely loopy. 'Oh god, oh fuck, yes, spank me, hit me,' she screamed, and when I reached forward and pulled hard on the immaculately cut hair and told her she was a dirty bitch, she got so excited she couldn't contain herself and came with a rush, moaning and whimpering, screaming out her ecstasy, and I let go too, pumping deep into the depths of her pussy.

Eventually, I withdrew my wilting cock, watching as most of the come slid back out again, dripping from her pussy onto the wooden veneered floor. She was a glorious sight, pussy gaping, dribbling wetly. She looked round, smiling that beautiful smile again, and noticing my poor cock, dwindling and wet, she quickly levered herself off the counter, turned and dropped to her knees in front of me. The elegant hands touched me, her long cool fingers encircled me, a wonderfully erotic picture, and she leaned forward, taking me into her beautiful mouth, sucking and licking her own juices and my come off my cock. She didn't stop until she was satisfied that I was clean. To crown it all, she bought both whip and paddle.

She's been back quite a few times and bought a number of items, spending freely. She always insists on a 'try before I buy,' and I'm always happy to oblige. She likes my stock, and she seems to like my cock too, and although she pays the going rate for my stock in trade, I'm happy to give her my cock for free. After all, she's not just a great customer now, I'm happy to say, but a good friend and very special lover too.

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