The Invitation by Sandy

I’d met a lady at a pub a few days ago. She was very alluring and seductive and seemed to know what I was thinking without my ever having spoken any words to her.  We’d chatted briefly about mundane things until she was whisked away to speak with others present.  As the dinner party had died down, she’d left quietly.  I was somewhat disappointed to not have been able to speak with her again.

After a hard couple of days at work, I arrived home to find a red envelope with bold black writing addressed to me tucked into the crease of my door, just above the doorknob.  This was an odd place to put such a conspicuous envelope as my mail box was next to the door and it would have been much easier to drop it into it.

I paused to open the envelope and found it to be an invitation.  It was hand written, with very good penmanship, on ivy-bordered card-stock.
 
“I enjoyed meeting you the other night and look forward to seeing you tonight at 8 pm.  I’m hosting a casual gathering of friends at the address below.”

‘Odd,” I thought, “I don’t recall ever having given her my information.’  Despite my curiosity in this regard and though I sensed danger the thrill of the unexpected and the ability to see her once more far outweighed my caution.  So I immediately went inside and began getting ready for the evening, my mind filled with lingering thoughts of her that night at the pub.

As I drove up, I noted how long the driveway was and that there were thick woods on either side of it.  It ended in a large open parking area with well-landscaped flowerbeds edging both sides of the walkway to the house.

I parked the car, got out and noticed the outside areas were not well lit.  The house itself seemed old but maintained well enough.  Brandishing a bottle of wine, I walked up to the doorstep and rang the bell to the right side of the thick, dark, oak, double door.

I looked around nervously while awaiting an answer. ‘Am I at the wrong place?’ I wondered.  The pace of my heart quickened just as I saw a mounted camera pointed straight at me. Suddenly I heard her melodic voice through a speaker that I’d not noticed before. “You’re early. Give me a moment and I’ll be right there.” She said it matter of fact.  Her tone was pleasant but authoritative.

A few moments passed as I peered over the darkening surroundings of the yard noting nothing of consequence.  My mind was racing with the anticipation of seeing her again and the ability to have a proper discussion, unlike the last encounter.

She opened the door wide and motioned her hand invitingly to lead me inside.  Her scent was intoxicating.  I entered and presented her with the wine.  My eyes drank in every motion of this beautiful creature.  Her soft well-manicured hands took the bottle gracefully from my own.  I followed her lead, following down a long corridor lined with many doors on both sides and a winding staircase at the end.

She stopped suddenly and I immediately followed suit.  She turned to the left and opened a door.  Once again she waved her hand, this time to invite me to go into the room.  She followed me but, just inside the threshold, she said, “Please wait here; I’ll need to chill this. I’m so glad you came, we’re going to have a good time!” Her gesture indicated the bottle of wine.  She then turned on her heel, walked back out and shut the door behind her.

Immediately I saw a rather inviting plush settee in the centre of the room.  So I wandered over and sat to wait for her return.  As I did I let my eyes wander around the room which seemed to be a well-appointed study.  In the corner a large mahogany desk with a large high back chair was flanked by a ceiling-to-floor corner bookshelf with old and new volumes of books.  Facing the desk and corner were two black leather chesterfields and a matching side table between them. ‘Some serious business must happen in this room,’ was my thought as I continued to take in the impressive décor of the room.

I admit I grew impatient and worried as nearly twenty minutes had passed, no other guests had arrived and she had not returned either.  Just as I’d made up my mind to go looking for her, I heard the familiar sound of high heels on wooden floors as she approached the door.  I stood, as a proper gentleman should, upon her entrance and then sat back down.  I was stunned by her wardrobe change.

She entered the room and walked straight to me wearing a tight white blouse, a hip hugging black pin striped pencil skirt, lace patterned nylons, and four-inch Mary Jane shoes. ‘Yes, certainly some serious business indeed,’ I thought with a smile.

She walked behind the settee and placed her hands firmly on my shoulders -- as if to insist I remain there. dI wanted to get up and hold her, to feel her skin and the warmth of her breath, to take in everything about her. My mind wandered and my eyes closed when she ran her fingers through my hair softly. “We’re going to have so much fun tonight.  You will never want to leave,” she whispered in my ear, further exciting me.
The myriad of fantasies flickering in my mind were abruptly stopped by the sudden grasp of my hair in her hands pulling my head back as she said, “Do you understand me, boy?”  Her tone was harsh and demanding in direct opposition from the pleasant cheery voice before.  To my consternation, I saw deviousness in her eyes and wickedness in her smile.

This sudden change in her took me aback. It made me wonder what I might have done to elicit such an outburst.  Had I offended her in some way? Is she a crazy bitch?  What have I gotten myself into?  Do I stay or do I go? Admittedly I was struggling with a mixture of fear and yearning.

She spoke louder, “Answer me boy!” and grabbed my hair tighter in one hand as pressed on my shoulder with the other. Instinctively I replied -- emphatically -- “Let me go!” but...  something inside me stirred and my body did not meet my words.

She leaned down, still grasping my hair but letting the other hand cross over from my shoulder across my chest like a seatbelt.  She pulled me into the back of the chair snuggly. Her words began with a whisper elevating gradually up into a commanding delivery as she continued speaking, “We both know you want this, silly boy. I’ve been watching you for days, in your drab boring, routine life. Aside from wanting, you ‘need’ this. So the next thing I want to hear from you is ‘Yes Mistress!,’ Do you understand me?”

I started to shake, fighting off the battle between my mind  wanting to leave, and my body desiring to stay.  My mind raced, wondering how well she might know me and instantly understanding that she meant what she was saying regarding having watched me for days.  How else would that invitation have been placed where it was?  How long had she been watching me?  Was it before we met at the pub? Was she following me after we met?  There were so many questions and no answers to quell my growing panic.  My life had been compromised.

Aside from those fears were the sudden surges of excitement in my body.  Were they confusing me as to how to respond?  If say ‘no’ will she let me go? Or do I just submit to her will?

“I’m waiting for an answer ‘boy!  Fucking answer me now before I beat it out of you!" Her tone was now the strongest yet.  Alluring yet disconcerting at the same time.

I clamoured to find my own voice and stuttered in my response, “Ye..., yes Miss.”

She rose up,  removed her arm from my chest but kept my head held back.  She looked down at me with glaring eyes and yelled, “Did I say ‘miss,’ No! I said ‘Yes Mistress!’ you stupid wanker.  Now shout it correctly and like you mean it, dammit!”

Without further hesitation, utterly giving in, I followed her command. “Yes Mistress,” I shouted.

Her smile briefly morphed into a pleased one;  then she reverted back to her stern look.  She released my hair and walked slowly but intently around to stand directly and closely in front of me. With her left eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face she informed me, “Now, for your training, we’ll begin with lesson one.  You have no right to be on my furniture.  Your place is on the floor.”  She landed a sudden slap to my left cheek and ordered me, “Get off my furniture and on your knees! On the floor ‘now!’”

I hesitated, partly out of shock, and partly out of stubbornness, but began to comply when she slapped me again, grabbed my head and left me tumbling to the floor between her and the settee. “You are too slow! When I tell you what to do, you do it right then.  Do you understand me?” she said as she began to sit demurely, properly on the seat in my stead.

“Yes, I’ll be faster next time” I replied, trying to defend myself and reassure her but somehow knowing it was in vain.

“Did you forget something ‘boy’?” she barked as her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes got darker.

“Forget something? I don’t think so.” I replied, not understanding what I may have forgotten.

She screamed “No, ‘What’?  You stupid boy!” She raised her hand to slap me again but stopped just after I replied “No Mistress!”, I realized my error and noted to not repeat the mistake again.

“Great, now that you understand lesson one, and are getting to understand lesson two; calling me ‘Mistress,’ we can begin on lessons three and four.  Three, you are not allowed to ever speak the word ‘no’ to me.  You will always say ‘Yes, Mistress,’ to me.  Do you understand boy?

“No,” I replied defiantly, “I never asked for what you are doing to me.”

Immediately she kicked my groin, making me double over from the pain.  She took the toe of her shoe and raised my head up by the chin to look at her as she spoke. “Again, ‘you’ do not say ‘no’ to me.  And I don’t care what you ask for.  You will do as I tell you to do, boy.”

With eyes watering and my body winced and shaking, I began to understand the gravity of this and, despite myself, was enjoying it, whether I asked for it or not.  This seemed to be filling a desire I’d not realized I’d had before. With obviously weakened but determined and sincere voice, “Yes, Mistress.”

She removed the toe of her shoe from my chin and placed the sole of the tip of it over my lips as if to quiet me. “Now for lesson four.  Whenever you are in my presence you will worship my feet or whatever footwear I am wearing unless otherwise instructed.  Now kiss and lick my shoes, you pathetic loser.  Displease me, and I’ll beat the crap out of you!  Inexperience is no excuse, so you'd better learn fast!”

“Yes Mistress.” I nodded in deference to her.  Then I kissed the sole of her shoe and began licking the bottom clean before kissing and licking the shiny curves that perfectly fit her foot.

“I may just thrash you late for my own amusement regardless of how you do right now.  You would like that you piece of shit wouldn’t you?

I broke my labours for one moment to nod, smile and respond, “Yes Mistress.” The words were coming so much more easily to me now.  The internal struggle quieted as I accepted whatever ‘this’ is.

She smiles, “Welcome to your new life, slave.  What a life you are going to have.”