The House of the Mandrake

[Honey_B]

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It stands high up on a dune overlooking the cerulean waters of Lake Michigan. It’s exterior echoes the Prairie school of nearby Illinois, simple clean lines that were popular in the twenties when the house was built. From the water, the sweeping terrace would be virtually unapproachable if it weren’t for the stairs set into the shifting sands. From the wide, open view of the back of the house, the front stands in stark contrast. Almost completely obscured by mature pine and oak trees, you would miss this house if you were not looking for it. That would truly be a tragedy because you have been looking for this place all your life.

Inside the front door, your eyes would be drawn downward to the intricate mosaic floor of the foyer. Its simmering tiles are arranged to create the Triskellion. As you walk across the foyer, you know that you have come home.

To your right is an expansive drawing room that runs to the back of the house. Soft light spills in from the French doors that open onto the terrace. Against one wall, a fireplace stands ready to be lit and before the flagstone hearth lays a plush carpet. Its colors echo the rooms warm colors - burgundy, hunter green, and ivory. An elegant but comfortable sofa is set back from the fireplace so that two people may sit and gaze into the flames as they sip their wine.

A staircase is on your left as you enter and beyond that, a hallway. That passage leads to the kitchen and the dining room. Two bedrooms and a bath make up the second floor of the home. One of the bedrooms belongs to Me, the Mistress of this house. The other is kept locked and is only opened when I am entertaining special guests.

 

[Honey_B]

A black suit, with a long coat and a short skirt cling to my body like a second skin. In fact, it feels as if I have been wearing the thing for as long as I have lived. It is with raptuous relief that I finally reach the door of my haven, my retreat.

The skeleton key opens the well-oiled lock with ease. It has been a very long week, trying in every way. Since the early hours of Monday morning, I have been looking forward to this weekend. Stepping across the threshold, I glance at my watch. In precisely one hour, my guest will arrive and I have much to prepare.

 

[outre]

I felt as if my stomach was about to lurch free of my body, the Windsor knot fitted with trembling hands. I had waited months, no a lifetime for this day. The letter had come in a foil lined envelope sealed in wax. When opened scents of rose-hips, lavender and vanilla wafted into my nostrils. I knew it was her Tuscany perfume. My knees buckled, other more Pavlovian responses occurred as well, a blush spread across my face and neck. As the heat crept through my chest I unfolded the feminine stationary. Your presence is required at the lake. My driver will pick you up promptly at 10.a.m on Friday. Do not be late. It was written with simple lines, brief and direct, though I could hear her voice narrate to me.
The rest of the week was a blur of anxiety, excitement and nerves. The weekend could not come soon enough.

I looked at my form once again in the mirror. At forty three I thought I was still in pretty good shape. A little gravity around the eyes and neck, no six pack but not wearing a case around my gut either. The suit I chose fit me to perfection. An olive gray winter wool with a hint of a burgundy pinstripe, pegged cuffs, and triple pleats. A slight break in the legs, the cuffs resting on my Armani wing tips. Between my shoes and my legs, a pair of argyle rep socks. Burgundy with olive cygnets and small royal blue diamonds. A starched Eaton collared shirt in ivory, fitted with French cuffs. Tourmaline cuff links, my tie an abstract of African woman’s faces in burgundy, olive, royal blue and black. I checked my fingernails-clean and clipped, my hair-neat and trimmed, my teeth-white and ears-clean as well.

The Lincoln town car pulled up at 10a.m. promptly. I grabbed my valise and trench coat as well as an umbrella and my cell phone, and walked briskly to the car. The driver was standing at the door and handed me yet another envelope it looked the exact same as the last one I opened but five days ago. You will do as the driver directs, for he represents me. Don’t disobey, I’ll see you soon. “H”

I looked inquisitively at the driver who had taken a long silk scarf from his coat pocket. “I’m told to secure this to your eyes. If you feel nauseous please use the motion sickness bag immediately in front of you. The ride will take approximately two hours. Is there anything you would care to listen to during the ride?” He asked. I opted for the gentle keystrokes of Chopin to help relax my nerves. Wishing I had brought a cup of green tea with me as well. I settled back and tried to sleep, hoping to shorten the long drive denied my sense of sight.

 

[Honey_B]

I hear the motor from my bedroom and smile into the mirror before me. There isn't a need to hurry and so my movements are leisurely as I apply the last of my make-up. I know that my driver, an exquisite toy in his own right, will lead my guest into my home.

Robert will bring him forth, across the sweeping threshold, and settle him on the sofa, eyes still bound. I can almost feel the raw emotion this entrance into my realm will stir up within the heart of my newest pet. Robert will keep close, warning my guest to stay still, to keep the blindfold on. His veins will surge with the sheer agony of anticipation, a feeling more potent then anything provided by drugs sold on the street.

Finishing my preparations, I appraise myself in the mirror and what I see pleases me. Though I know the secrets of his soul, this is the first time my guest will see me. My blue eyes look smoky in the soft light, the irises darkened with my own anticipation. I have swept my auburn hair up into a French twist, giving my features an elegantly severe cast. For this night, I have chosen to wear a Chanel suit in a shade of blue so dark the color approaches black. Under the prim jacket, I wear a silk camisole of the same color, the fabric sheer enough for the shadow of my areolas to be almost visible.

I stand as I hear the door to my home open. Smoothing my skirt, I turn in front of a full-length mirror. My legs are encased in silk stockings of a neutral color. Upon my feet, I have chosen to wear dark blue pumps, their three-inch heels bringing my height to six feet. Robert's mellifluous voice drifts up the stairs and I smile, knowing I will be with my guest shortly.

 

[outre]

The rapid staccato clicking of the tires soon slowed and then stopped. My pulse quickened. The trip had in fact been relaxing, and I was able to doze. Now all the pent up emotions of the past day came flooding out like a dam bursting. I started trembling, my mouth dried and my hands started sweating. I was nervous, excited and very aroused. The car stopped and my door was opened. My nostrils were assaulted with the astringent smell of juniper and pine, the warm sun beat down on my shoulders but I had little time to enjoy these things as I was firmly guided by my upper arm up a set of steps and into a door. I was led a short way and helped into a seat. "Please remain still and leave your blindfold on. You will be addressed shortly." Were the terse instructions from the valet. I tried to remain still but had to adjust my legs as my now pinched boxer shorts were making things a bit uncomfortable. Damn I thought. I still had very little control over less evolved parts of my body. I willed myself to be still as requested and waited.

 

[Honey_B]

It's time. Before leaving my bedroom, I stop and spritz on a mist of Tuscany. He knows my scent although not what it smells like as it clings to my body. My heals make sharp retorts as I walk across the burnished cherry floor. Descending the staircase, I keep my step slow and controlled for he is listening, this one that I have invited to my home.

Never before have I laid eyes on the man, yet I have seen into his heart. How he first earned my notice in not important or even interesting. We met in a way that has become usual in this modern age, in the virtual world of cyberspace. For over a month now, we have been exchanging e-mails and phone calls. He has been revealing the essence of who he is. I have been learning.

Up to the back of the sofa I walk and place my hands firmly on his shoulders. Beneath my fingers, he muscles fairly quiver at the innocent touch. Bending low, I whisper in his ear,

"Welcome to my home, my dear."

And because the pink flesh look so delicate and vulnerable, I gently nip the back of his ear.

 

[outre]

Her scent assaults my nostrils, my posture stiffens. The sound of her heels approaching, register as a metronome into my psyche. My nerves all active simultaneously at the tactile assault after being denied for so long. I feel my pulse quicken, my erection stabbing at my suit. Time seems to race and stand still simultaneously. The dichotomy not going unnoticed in a brief moment of clarity. I sense her presence close to me and want desperately to be able to in some way, touch her. To re-enforce to my mind that indeed, she is real. Then as if a wish is granted I feel strong delicate fingers on my shoulders, my muscles spasm uncontrollably. A wisp of her hair touches my cheek as my breath adheres to my throat giving me a staccato sound much akin to someone scared to death. I feel her breath dancing on my neck and then her teeth nipping at my ear. Even willing myself to move at this point would be moot, I am literally rooted to the spot I am sitting in. Her sing-song lilted voice welcomes me to her lair and all I can conjure up from my throat is a half spoken half breathed “Thank You, M’lady”.

 

[Honey_B]

I straighten and walk slowly around the couch until I am even with his knees. He has surprised me with his elegant dress and the impeccible way he has pulled himself together. More impressive is the way my presence has undone him. He looks beautiful blind-folded, the loss of sight giving a vulnerable cast to his visiable features. His breathing is clearly audible, the exquisite music of a man in heat. A flush spreads across the planes of his face, bringing a rosy heat to his skin.

Reaching down, I wrench up my skirt and climb onto the sofa, planting a knee on either side of his thighs. My skirt rises up even further, revealing the lacy tops of my stockings and the black gartars that secure them. I smile at the little gasp he utters. It is such a pleasure to play upon the fantasies of his mind.

Crooking a finger under his chin, I raise his head and lower my mouth to his. The kiss is a mere whisper. Softly, I brush his lips with my own before releasing him. My hands move to the back of his head and I untie the scarf. Before I pull away the silken fabric, I snap my fingers. Robert bows and retreats to the kitchen.

As I pull the scarf away, he blinks in the soft firelight. In a voice that would have put the big bad wolf to shame, I remark,

"My, what pretty eyes you have, my sweet."

 

[outre]

The heat from her body makes it impossible to sit still. Her perfume stronger now assaults my nose. I feel the cushions of the couch shift and hear the soft rustling of silk as I feel her supple yet muscular thighs straddle me. She is SO close to me, yet still a specter of my imagination. I feel a firm guiding finger placed on my chin, willing me to tilt my head up and then a painfully soft kiss painted across my lips. Fingers snap, and the blindfold is removed. Ironically I am still blinded, but now by her beauty. I steal a glimpse of her before realizing what I am doing and lower my head in deference. Her eyes a curious mix of periwinkle and lavender blue, long long lashes, so languid and feline. Her dark hair framing her angelic face. A melodic voice speaks to me, complimenting me on my eyes, but it a toying way. Somehow, the image of the wolf welcoming Red Riding hood to the bedroom flashes through my consciousness.

I smile, yet still am reluctant to gaze at her again.

 

[Honey_B]

The soft ticking of the mantle clock mingles with the ragged sound of his breathing. I have been sitting on his lap, remaining still except for an almost insignificant rotation of my hips. For several moments, I have been letting the long minutes take their toll upon him. He flinches visibly as the clock delicately chimes the hour. He cock has grown quite hard beneath my caressing pelvis. If he has been true to his word, it has been over a month since he has achieved orgasm. My belief that he has complied with my command increases as I watch strain twist his features. Such conflict is a joy to watch.

"Have you been a good boy? Tell me, how long has it really been since you have cum?"

The tone of my voice is polite almost gentle but it carries the underlying iron of my will in it.

 

[outre]

The feeling of her sex gyrating on me caused my cock to jump and twitch in my slacks. i could feel the telling wetness spread on my thigh. i was trying desperately not to lose control of myself in my slacks. It had been over a month since i was allowed release by her commands via email and the telephone. i had only one indiscretion the entire time, and that was at the mercy of a night time emission.The hypnotic dulcet tone of her voice called me back from whatever other plane my mind drifted. i heard her ask if i had been a good boy, if i had obeyed her request to abstain from release. My mind scrambled to try and remember if i had volunteered the information about my "accident". In a split second of hesitation i decided that my agreement with her to always be honest took precidence over my pride.

"M'lady, i have tried my best to obey Your order to deny myself release for over the past month with one episode of indescretion, which i believe i had mentioned to You". I croaked. My voice still seeemed alien to me. The sweat was slowly trickling down my spine as her hips continued their lewd torturous grind in my lap.

 

[Honey_B]

I slithered off his lap and sat down beside him, our bodies touching from hip to thigh.

“Yes, you told me how your body betrayed you. Such is the nature of the male animal. All of you suffer from the inferiority of your physiology.”

I gave his rising erection a light lap and laughed, derision give the sound an edge.

“A chastity belt should solve the problem in the future. You shall wear it whenever you sleep. Now, do not allow yourself to become too comfortable. I will return shortly.”

Getting up from the couch, I walked back up the stairs. The preparations for this evening had long been completed. My bedroom stood ready, like a stage right before a grand performance. All of the scenery was in place. I crossed to the opposite door and went inside. Humming the opening notes of Bolero, I carefully selected several items, placing them in a leather bag.

When I returned to my living room, I was pleased to see my pet had remained exactly as I had left him. I resumed my seat next to him, the bag on my lap. Opening it, I drew forth a black satin ribbon and set its shimmering length upon the small table to my right. Next came several, tightly coiled lengths of rope. I set them on the table as well. Finally, I retrieved my riding crop. Its handle had become soft and supple from use and it fit in my hand like a natural extension of myself. I laid it across my lap and set the bag on the floor.

“Now, I should very much like you to rise and remove all of your clothing, my dear.”

 

[outre]

i saw her get up and move so that she was sitting next to me. The heat from her leg seared me with erotic tension. She said that i would be wearing a chasity device at night to control my nocturnal "urges". This thought both abhored me and excited me. The idea of having my orgasms controlled from afar to that extent, ah how the noose tightens.

She got up and bid me to remain still. i took the time to look about the room. It was quite tastefully done. Warm carpet covered the room, and a large fireplace drew ones immediate attention. The long rays of the afternoon sun caused light to spill on an intricate mosiac floor in the foyer. My attention was diverted by the sound of Mistress Honey returning from where ever she went. Tried as i may to keep my gaze down i couldn't help but to steal a glance at her again. The site of this woman was more than i could bear. Regal, classic beauty, as if from another time. i thought how she would have fit into the European aristocracy of the early twenties ah, but i fear i would have been deemed too rough looking. Perhaps i would have been allowed the position of M'ladies conceirge.i allowed myself the slightest hint of a smile at the thought. Presently she sat down next to me again. i felt my pulse hitch my lips part as i tried to take a slow, measured breath to help relax. On her lap she held a fine leather bag and between her finely shaped fingers she held a well worn riding crop. i could quite literally hear myself swallow and hoped that she had not.
i noted that she removed a black ribbon and numerous pieces of rope placing them on the table. Mistress Honey then directed me to stand and disrobe. For a moment my brain had understood her words, but my body seemed to resist of its own accord. i don't feel it was because of any reticence on my part rather i was so erotically charged my mind had in some way short circuited.
When i was finally able to overcome my stupor i stood as if in a trance and nimbly removed my coat asking if there was somewhere she wanted me to hang it. "Drape it here on the couch, pet." She said. i took off my jacket and tie then neatly folded my shirt onto the couch. Somehow it seemed like i was a school boy in front of a nurse taking my clothing off for the first time. i could feel the heat of a blush rising up my neck and settling into my cheeks. i removed my shoes, socks and slacks as well, these too i carefully folded so as not to ruin the pleats. With a huge gulp of air for courage i removed my shorts, presenting myself to her naked. i abesent mindedly began to cover myself with my hands then thinking better of it, clasped them behind myself.

 

[Honey_B]

He had a beautiful body, lightly muscled with a hairless chest. I had made him shave it weeks ago. Still it delighted me to see the evidence of his submission. My eyes trailed lower, noting his erection - And the evidence of his arousal. I closed my eyes and smiled, taking a moment to savor the feeling of absolute power. Before me stood a handsome, successful man in his prime, stripped to his skin, waiting to do whatever I asked. No, that wasn’t quite right. He was not ready to do anything. No, he was here to be trained, to learn what he was capable of.

I opened my eyes and noticed his own eyes dart downward. He had been studying my face no doubt, but I decided to let it go.

For now.

“Presently you are standing at attention. Although to be proper, you must place your hands behind your head and never forget that I always insist on being proper.”

He put his hands behind his head without question.

“Very good, little one.”

I rose, picking up the ribbon as I did.

“You will hold this position until I tell you otherwise.”

Slowly, I walked around him, my feet sinking into the plush carpet.

“It allows me to inspect my property.”

He tensed as I ran my hand over his ass. My touch wasn’t a caress, but rather the way I would inspect the quality of leather in a pair of shoes I was considering buying. I slapped his right cheek lightly to gage the muscle tone. Looking down, I noticed his feet were almost together. I put a hand on each of his shoulders. In my heels, I was taller than him. I thrust one of my legs between his and kicked his feet further apart.

“When you stand at attention, your feet must be shoulder distance apart.”

My voice had lost its conversational tone, the steel returning.

 

[outre]

She told me to stand and place my hands behind my head, further exposing me to her. i felt her delicate hands on my chest then saw her feet before my downcast eyes. She moved behind me running her hands over my ass cheeks as if inspecting me. My erection bobbed in the wind like a bouy in temptuous seas. The evidence of my excitment slowly making its way to the floor in a fine clear strand. i felt her hands grip my shoulders firmly and her leg lodge between my ass cheeks forcing my legs apart further still. The fine strand of pre-cum snapping off abruptly. My breath catching in my throat. This, i was told would be one of my positions of submission in front of her.

 

[Honey_B]

I moved so that I was facing him.

"Do you know what this is for, dear heart?"

I dangled the black ribbon before his eyes and then stroked his cheek with its length.

"You have asked to become my submissive. This is, of course, why you were invited here, to train you."

As I spoke, I teased the skin of his chest, nails scraping lightly across his nipples. To an observer, it might have looked like I was stroking a dog.

"Normally a submissive receives a collar when they enter into training. However you shall wear this, tied about your neck in a little black bow. Do you know why I have given you a pretty ribbon instand of a leather training collar."

 

[outre]

She moved round so that She was in front of me. Her presence causing me great excitement and nervousness. As she stroked my chest, causing small electric charges to run down my spine, She showed me a black silk ribbon and asked if I knew why I would be wearing a ribbon instead of a leather collar. I answered “M’lady, I suppose that its because You choose for me to wear this, and that is reason enough for me.” I waited with my arms behind my head hoping that my answer was sufficient for Her, that I had pleased Her. Besides I thought, it was how I honestly felt.