Thanks to everyone for reading the first three parts. Apologies for the delay in delivering this section, I found it difficult to get how it should be and I’m still not sure it’s Ok.
I hope you enjoy this 4th instalment, please give feedback and comments.
It is mainly a single piece of soft moulded black leather that smoothly wraps smoothly around a human head. It has lacing that runs down from the crown to the back of the neck. There is an additional piece of leather behind the lacing that allows it to be tightened without hair being caught up in the laces. Also there are two small padded areas that add pressure over the eyes to keep all light out. The only skin visible would be the wearers mouth when it is in place. It is currently sitting over a large sweet jar, on the sideboard in my front room. 2 hours ago it was wrapped around my head as I licked the woman, Mistress, from across the road to what I think was an enjoyable climax. I can’t quite get my head around how it happened. 11 hours before the licking I was gifted with a small black kidd leather ankle boot in need of some tender care. To go from boot care to woman care it just took a few good feelings and following a few simple commands. On the way I seemed to give up my ability to make decisions for myself.
On returning to my flat, I’d cleaned and dried the hood of all my sweat and …Mistresses juices. I started with a my tongue. The taste was still fresh, musky, slightly sweet. In the background the smell of leather just made my heart sing. Once I was down to the taste of leather I used an antibacterial wipe, then a towel and then a dry soft cloth. To try to maintain its soft, supple feel I applied a little polish and slowly worked it into the leather. Taking care to bring it to a perfect shine. I couldn’t work it too hard for fear of altering the moulding in such soft leather. The smell was almost overwhelming. I was hard between my legs but if I was going to continue my adventure, I’d been ordered not to masturbate. It took a fair amount of willpower not to just lightly stroke it. I knew, once I started I wouldn’t stop. Was gratification now worth the loss of something more lasting in the future. Tough choice but I kept my hands clear.
Looking at the hood laying flat on my coffee table, it didn’t seem right. It needs to be displayed but I didn’t have one of those polystyrene forms used for wigs and hats. After a dig into a couple of cupboards I came up with an empty sweet jar from last Christmas. With a T-shirt as padding it seemed to work ok so I put it on the sideboard. With the hood sorted my own physical needs came to mind. I was thirsty. My knees were sore. My back ached. If this was from a short evening session how was I going to feel tomorrow starting at 11. This led onto thoughts of what might happen tomorrow , which lead to more issues between my legs.
With a shudder I headed for the kitchen and a drink, something cold. I ended drinking milk straight out of the carton.
Now for the aches. This was one of those times I missed not having a bath or a partner. I would have to cope with a steam in the shower and a probably unsuccessful self back rub.
Standing in the shower devolved into sitting in the shower tray with water raining down on my head shoulders and upper back. Eventually I got out and dried off. Trying to use the towel to massage my back.
So two hours after my encounter with Mistress I sat in my favourite chair looking at the hood on the sideboard. The aches were less, I wasn’t thirsty. I couldn’t get my head straight. Nothing on the television could hold my attention, my usual diversion into the internet didn’t seem to help. It all just felt bland compared to the feelings I’d had. Shortly I headed to bed. An hour later and I still wasn’t sleeping. With a sigh of exasperation, I stomped into the front room, grabbed the hood and took it back to bed. Thanks to the back panel lacing the hood on was easy. Again, the eye pads quickly took the light. I could feel the leather hugging my entire head. My nose was quickly filled with the scent of warm leather. After finishing the lacing I could only really hear anything when something brushed against the side of my head. I felt held and safe. I settled down to sleep.
I found myself standing in a small room. One wall was covered in shelves and pigeon holes. On each surface was a piece of leather, some finished to a bright shine, others with the soft velvety finish of suede. The smell of leather was intense. It was the leather stock room from a shoe factory.
“Well boy? The choice is yours.” It was Mistress voice behind me. I turned but all I could see was a dark outline. The full glass window behind her let in so much light I was nearly blinded. She stepped forward and towered over me. I found I was kneeling looking up at a pair of crotch length red boots. The shiny pointed toes and 7 inch heels were right in my face.
“Worship, lick and embrace or deny yourself, get out and live sıhhiye escort frustrated. It is your choice.”
When faced with those boots and the air full of the smell of leather, there is no choice. I start to lick and worship the boots straight away. I have no will power in this situation. The smell the feel of smooth leather against my tongue, the feel of a warm foot through the leather. All is beautiful.
Each lick takes me higher, both in sensation and up the boots. I’m getting harder, my pulse is getting faster, my breathing is getting shorter. The feeling of happiness is increasing. When I my tongue gets to her knees I feel the hard edge of the sole of a boot starts to rub my hardness.
“Good boy, higher boy.” The sensations keep building, then I feel her hands in my hair. She’s pulling me up. My tongue against the boot, the feeling of her warm leg beneath the leather, the smell of leather, the stroking of my heads. I’m getting higher, it’s harder to concentrate but I only have one job. To lick.
I feel a soft caress on both sides of my cock. It’s the leather ankles of the boots. That boney ridge on the sides of her ankles provides pressure points on either side of my hardness. My hips start to jerk forward and I push myself between her legs. Her hands crush my head against the leather on her thighs. I can no longer see anything, I feel held, I smell leather. I feel safe. I’m over excited. Then suddenly, I feel release. I start to spirt between her legs but it rebounds and I feel a warm stickiness spread on my stomach and thighs. Oh Mistress. I think I black out. I don’t feel anything.
All is black. I can’t open my eyes. I’m breathing hard. My pulse is racing. I’m wrapped in a thin cloth. I struggle to free myself then the sheet gives and I raise my hands to my eyes. They meet leather. The hood, I’m in bed. I sit up and with my brain still not sure what is real or not, I feel for the laces. I struggle to undo the hood. Eventually I manage it and pull free. I try to calm down. Deep breaths.
There is a dim light coming in through the bedroom door from the front room. I look around at my bedroom. I’m alone. The glowing red numbers on my bedside clock tell me it’s 0633. Too early. I start to move and feel the sheet sticking to my groin and thighs. The realisation hits, that was one hell of a wet dream, the first I can remember in along while. I collapse back onto the bed. Wow.
I now know I need to go back. I crave it. If it feels half as good, I would be a fool to miss out. Can it be as good as a dream? My mind is a whirl of possibilities. I lay there for a while but my groin starts to feel chilled. I need to clean up, me, the bed and the hood again. I need to prepare.
Stripping the bed, I use the sheets and my pjs to wipe myself down. I don’t think I’ve ever produced so much cum, ever. What a mess. I then roll everything together, making sure the hood isn’t caught up, before putting it in the hamper behind the bedroom door. I will need to go to the laundrette sometime soon.
A hot shower and clean clothes bring some sense of normality. Cereal, with milk this morning, helps to deal with a growing thirst and settle some butterflies. Sitting in my favourite chair I look out and up at number 13 across the road. I can see a glow from a roof lite against the chimney, there must be a light on in the attic. Either someone is up early or they’ve left a light on overnight. I wonder what else goes on in that house. A few minutes later the glow goes out but a little while later I see a light come on behind the first floor window. The lounge were I was yesterday evening.
About half an hour later I’m still staring at number 13 but it starts to get more difficult as the commuters start moving. The pavement outside my front starts to fill up. My view is blocked by a constant flow of shoes, boots, trousers and skirts. Normally, if I’m up at this time, I’d be looking at them but today number 13 is my focus. About 0730 I catch a glimpse of a tall woman with big blonde hair wearing a light beige coat leaving the front door. It’s not Mistress, she has silky chocolate Brown hair. I quickly stand up and move over to the window to try to see more but she is gone before I can tell more. Someone else was in the house with Mistress overnight possibly while Marci and I were there.
I’m starting to develop a desire to find out more about Mistress and what I might be getting myself into but it weighs against my desire to go with it and enjoy what I can. I have 3 and a half hours before I’m expected. I need to dry, clean and work the hood to keep its suppleness. I need to polish my shoes, I need to iron a clean shirt and I need to sort out my interview trousers, possibly iron them as well. I need to make sure I calm down otherwise I will need another shower. The anticipation is driving me to distraction, why can’t I go early? She might be upset, she may have other things to do, I might disappoint sincan escort her. I need to calm down. Thinking of her brings a quick realisation, I came …but I didn’t masturbate. What am I going to do? Will she understand? Will I be punished? How will I be punished. Oh God. I’m so nervous. I have to calm down. I know, I have some whisky in the side board. I don’t want to over do it, I can’t let her smell alcohol on my breath in the morning, she’ll think I’m a drunk or something. No that can’t happen, but a little now might help. I’ll brush my teeth as I get ready. Some shaky moments later I down a mouthful of amber fluid and quickly realise why I still have the bottle. It’s awful, I really don’t like the harsh taste, but it is a shock to the system and I start to slow down and control the nerves. I have jobs to do.
Just before I start to tackle the ironing, I set an alarm for 1015 to give me plenty off warning. Just in case. Ironing is tedious. But I do have to focus to get the wrinkles without burning the cloth. I have to press quite hard, some of the wrinkles have wrinkles. It’s been a few months since I had a reason to look smart. All of this does calm me down a bit more so I do some more nonessential ironing, this is working.
Eventually, I move on to the leather. My Oxford’s only need a quick rub, there was no major scuffing last night so they are still ok. Taking the hood in hand again, the softness, the smell, memories of both yesterday evening and last night’s dream get to me straight away. Working polish in with my left hand inside for support gives two sources of the rubbing sensation. It’s almost as good as licking Mistress. The world just seems to stop. All my focus is on the rubbing and the smell. From apparently nowhere I hear a repeated buzzing. It takes a second before I realise it’s the alarm I set. 45 minutes to finish getting ready.
Another shower, this time I make it cold to help calm me further. Then it’s brushing teeth and using my best deodorant. I need to smell my best. I go for black socks and underpants as a base then the interview trousers. I check the time, holding off putting on my shirt to the last minute. Shoes on, hood ready. Sit and wait.
10 to and I’m fumbling with shirt buttons. Then jacket on, hood in hands I leave and lock my flat before heading across the street. Remembering last night’s hesitation I rush up the steps and push the button all in one hurried move. Then silence and waiting.
After an interminable wait the buzzer sounds and the door come ajar. It doesn’t open all the way today. From behind the door i hear, “Enter.”
I push on the door. It swings open to reveal the hall way. The smooth, black, kidd leather ankle boots that started yesterday grace Mistresses feet. Above these she is wearing a knee length leather pencil skirt, a tight waisted black leather jacket, short wrist length black gloves. To top all this she had deep red lipstick, smokey eye shadow and all her silky brown hair pulled up in a high pony tail.
“Good morning boy. Yesterday I was a little bit naughty with you. I think we should start again properly…..Please Enter my study and have a seat.”
She was standing just beyond a door frame I must have passed but not noticed yesterday. She stood still with her arm slightly raised pointing through the door. As I approached there was an increasing smell of warm leather and sweet musk. I can’t seem to taken my eyes off the little ankle boots. She must have reached out to me as i feel a smooth leather finger touch under my chin. She tilts my head up and looks me straight in the eyes.
“I see you still like them. Distracting aren’t they… but not just yet. Sit.” She directs me into the room.
The dark polished hardwood floor continues into this bright room. In the middle is a small round stool. No more than a foot tall with a red leather cushion on top it is about 5 feet from the front of a large mahogany desk. Behind the desk is a red leather executive office chair. Mistress delicately places herself in this while continuing to point me at the stool. I sit feeling like a small child looking up over the desk to just see her head reclined against the back of her seat. I have no idea what is in the rest of the room I can only focus on her.
With a lick of her lips she leans forward. I imagine if I was stood up I’d have a perfect view of her restrained cleavage but as low as I am I can only look up into her eyes. I find I’m licking my lips in response. I’m nervous how this will play out.
“Well boy, last night I offered you a position as boot cleaner. Is this still something you would like?” Her eyes seem to bore into my soul. I don’t think I could get away with a lie.
“Y..Yes Mistress. I would like to do that Mistress.”
“Even if they aren’t leather. I seem to remember you had a problem with that last night.”
“Your solution was most helpful last night, Mistress.”
“So you would be happy to do this hooded and sınırsız escort blindfolded for as long as I tell to do it?”
“Yes , Mistress.”
“Are you sure? I have a lot of boots it could be awhile?”
All I could think of was last night’s dream, the smell of leather, the joy of worship. I looked at the hood in my hands then back up at Mistress. “Yes, Mistress.”
“The position does come with some requirements. You would be expected to have high degree of bodily cleanliness, follow a strict dress code, follow the rules of the house and work to the deadlines provided. Failures will be punished but good behaviour will also have it’s rewards.” She smiled down at me as she said the latter. It was a beautiful smile even to the glint in her eyes. How could I not agree to please this beautiful woman. I’m sure I could cope with her requirements and get to worship her in her boots. It would be a dream come true.
“I am happy to accept, Mistress. I understand there are terms but I am happy to try.”
At the word “try” Mistress face seemed to cloud for a split second but then the smile returned although it didn’t quite seen to make it to her eyes in the same way it had before.
“I think an extended trial period might be good to see if your …..trying… will be tolerable.”
She walked slowly around the desk, always facing me. She then leans back against the desk an raises her right foot. My eyes focus on the burnished leather of the toe. I remember its feel and start to lean forward. I can’t help myself.
“Not yet. Sit up straight.” She looks down her nose at me then down at her boot. “Still a good finish, you did some respectable work on these. If you can keep this up through your trial I will reward you… So , now to get started.” She holds out her hand. “The hood please.”
I hold it out to her in both hands, presenting it like a gift.
“Good boy.” She looked at the dry polished leather, “And well cleaned by the look. Another passable job… Kneel up and turn around.”
I drop off the stool as fast as I can then turn away from Mistress. As the hood descends over my head I realised I was facing the front window of the house. To it’s right was a pair of mud covered white knee length boots warn by the tall blonde woman I had seen this morning. This was just registering as Mistress started to tighten the laces on the hood. I realised these were probably going to be the first pair of boots I’d be cleaning. But I wouldn’t be worshiping Mistress. Who was she? Could it be the same? What had I actually agreed to.
As this was going through my head Mistress was tightening the laces on the hood. At about half way she stopped.
“Boy I told you to clean this hood. That includes the laces…this sticky substance feels like… smells like male ….. cum.” The last word was said with so much ice and venom a shiver ran down my spine. I felt both my wrists pulled behind me then metal ringed them. My head was pushed down and forward and I found myself with a hand pushing my hooded face into the floor with my wrists cuffed together.
“Explain yourself boy. This hood is not clean. You were told not to masturbate until you saw me today. Who does this disgusting material belong to?.”
“Mistress, I….I don’t know what to say. I didn’t p..play with myself. I h…had a wet dream while wearing the hood. I…I thought I’d cleaned it….I just didn’t check the laces I concentrated on the leather. I’m sorry Mistress. Please forgive me Mistress.”
“You’re pathetic, no worse than that. You are a pathetic male with no restraint. ….. As I informed you just now failure will be punished…. and boy you have failed to meet even limited expectations….Cindy take this boy… no take this thing below. Put it to work.”
A rather faint voice came from in front of me. “Yes Mistress.”. With that I felt strong hands under my armpits as I was lifted to my feet. I’m not light but Cindy didn’t seem to be bothered. I was half lifted half pushed along out of the room. I have a limited idea where I was taken. At one point I think I was pushed against a wall while I heard a door being opened. Then I was guided and lifted down some stairs. After a bit more shoving and pushing the hands let go and I heard the faint high voice telling me to stand still and remain silent. The next thing I feel is the laces being tugged on my hood. She…. no someone is finishing off fitting it. Once fastened everything goes quiet as I stand hooded with my hands cuffed behind my back. Oh God, what have I agreed to. What is happening? I try to take stock but I realise my main sensory inputs are the beautiful smell of warm leather from my hood, the ache in my hard member and the dryness of my mouth. Some parts of me are really enjoying this. Oh God.
I hear the faint sounds of movement and the jingling of metal but then everything goes quiet again. My thoughts start to race again. I know I’d disappointed Mistress. The hood wasn’t clean, I should have checked the laces as well as the leather. I must have transferred fluids when I cleared the bed. What was in store for me now? What was that sound? How long will I have to stand here.Will my dream, my fantasy ever come true? Oh God, what position have I actually agreed to.