Chanelle’s Christmas Surprise - Sex Stories

Chanelle’s Christmas Surprise

... padlock. Then lock the wrist- and ankle cuffs with more small padlocks. When you lock the ankle cuffs lock the chain to them.

Once you have done all of this, lock the box with the large padlock.

You will not find keys to the padlocks, so make sure you do all of this correctly the first time. If you fuck up I will kick you out when I get up, whether or not your clothes and keys are locked in the box.

After this make my breakfast and bring it to me at exactly 08:30, together with the clear plastic wallet.”

So at 08:25, I was in Mistress’ kitchen stark naked except for my chastity device, leather hood (which covered the top half of my head leaving small eye and nostril holes with a larger opening for my mouth), collar and cuffs on my wrists and chained ankles (all padlocked on); preparing Mistress’ breakfast lap table. At exactly 08:30 I opened Her bedroom door, placed Her breakfast by the side of Her bed, knelt, and gently shook her awake.

She stirred, opened Her eyes, and said, “Is it eight-thirty already? I was having a lovely dream, how dare you interrupt it!”

With that, She unexpectedly slapped me hard across the face. It didn’t hurt as much as it might have done because of the hood, but She still hit me hard enough to knock my head aside.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, but You did say to wake You at this time”

“Don’t answer me back, worm. Give me my breakfast, and kneel there while I eat.”

She sat up in bed, affording me a glimpse of Her ...

... recently-enhanced breasts (which after I had begged to, She graciously allowed me to pay for) underneath Her translucent blue negligee. After placing the lap table on Her bed I knelt by Her side, waiting for further instructions and growing increasingly hungry from the smell of Her breakfast.

“I can’t enjoy this with you there gawping at me. Go down to my Playroom, secure yourself in the Toilet Box and wait for me!” She snapped.

I crawled out of Her bedroom and went down to the basement, to the area that She referred to as Her Playroom, but that anyone else might call a dungeon.

Mistress lived in an older house, built in the days when houses still had basements. Although it wasn’t isolated it didn’t have any close neighbours and the very large garden was not overlooked by any other properties. After we had started meeting more frequently I asked Her if She had ever considered converting the basement into a dungeon. She replied that it had crossed Her mind but that She was generally too busy to give it much thought. I told Her that if She wanted I would investigate what would be needed and I would help with the costs if She decided to go ahead.

After a few months, Mistress had a working dungeon, which She refused to call that as she disliked the term, preferring to call it Her Playroom. It had most of the usual furniture and equipment – a St. Andrews cross, whipping bench, cage, suspension hoist, and a plethora of rope, chains, tape, whips, canes, gags, and other implements for ...