Preston and Manchester Mistress - Madame Margi - Diary - Page 43

 

A Midsummer Night’s Dream Session with my Slave “R”

The heat is on and temperature rising in blooming glorious July.

How wonderful for me to take the opportunity of this fine weather and step out in stilettos with a collared slave at my heels. So many opportunities for outdoor bdsm on fine starlit evenings. There really is nothing quite as exhilarating than being dressed in tight leather pants and low cut top, stiletto boots with a lethal whip ready in my handbag. What slave would refuse me the pleasure of an evening of whipping and torment when I dress to kill? I've moved my bondage chair outdoors into my garden where a slave can be secured overnight gagged with a pair of my knickers and listening to the silence of the dark and waiting for my dark shadow.
On days like these I feel almost too hot to handle so strip off and fall down to your knees and worship me now as your Goddess of the night in tight clinging leather and hot high heels!

If the universe were as it should be then your garden would be an estate, with woodland and an enchanted glade. Where - on an Eve in Midsummer - Dominant Oberon would lead her Bottom into. Of course he'd follow, drawn on a lead and in rapture at simply being in her presence - this leather cloaked goddess of the shadows. Clad in her gown he drew in her perfume, felt the touch of crisp cloth that had so often touched hers. He felt that closeness keenly, touched by it.

In the glade was the chair of his confinement, the chair that would hold him and allow her to focus his passion for her satisfaction. For he knew that what she would do to him would take a mere man beyond his limits, but he was more than a man - for he was her slave. And under her torments, he would grow, yet again change and he would find himself, begging her never to stop. In the glade they stood together, both content. In front the chair - with a candle on a stand on either flank - to one side a table with many things of wonder. Some he had known others were new to him - this is the way it had always been. Each time, a new initiation.............she always took him just that little bit further. Increment, by increment. He knew tonight he would whimper - not knowing what she was doing to him, but knowing that it was her. She removed his gown, he felt the sweet chill of the night, and gently, but firmly she took his hand to guide him to his place. The binding, his ankles tied, his legs were spread, his arms bound and his neck collared. Then a hood, tightly laced.

All he could do was look. She stood in front of him and cast off her cloak to reveal herself - he was overwhelmed by her magnificent beauty. Her soft skin and curve spoke of her femininity... But her high heels and leather boots, the corset, the long gloves, spoke eloquently of her dominance. The whip she cradled spoke of her cruelty - of what she would demand and receive from him. And looking at her he knew that what she demanded he would happily give. She drew close, her blue eyes a twinkle, her mouth smiling. The fierce heat of the day was dropping - a gentle evening zephyr stirred, cooling both their skins and wrapping us both in a soft embrace. The spirit on the night possessed us. The fragrance of herbs lay heavy.
Since they'd come into the garden not a word had been spoken, now she smiled - and he felt her humanity - and whisper found its way through leather, "Oh dear R - you know you're always safe with me and the deeper we go the safer you are. You've always been mine since before we met. I was there in those Midsummer Night Dreams - as well as those of autumn, summer and spring. You've always submitted - what more do you need to know".

With that an outer hood was zipped shut and R was embraced in darkness. He felt her close as she leant over and took a nipple he whimpered.................