The Journey of Mrs. Small - Sex Stories

The Journey of Mrs. Small

... said nothing as he pulled the zipper all the way down but she gasped as her loosened skirt began to slide down her body. Jack held her wrists firmly as the skirt fell around her ankles leaving her standing there in tan tights and white panties. “You agree that you should be punished for organising that petition against me, I take it?” he asked as his fingers slipped inside the waistband of her tights. “Sorry,” she replied softly. There was no resistance as he began to push them down over her hips, taking her panties with them. He didn’t expect any. He knew as he tied her hands that she was a submissive; that her submissiveness had been lying there dormant for all this time. Sometimes all it takes is something quite small and insignificant to unlock something lying sexually dormant; the rope; the knotting; the taking of her hand. The combination had been unlocked. As he knelt to down to finish stripping her from the waist down he knew that she was now putty in her hands. Voluntarily, she stepped out of the remaining garments that had covered her dignity. He knew that it was highly probable that only one other man had seen her like this - her husband. He gripped her thighs and turned her around so that she faced him. Her groin was directly level with his face. There were so many things that he could have done but he just looked for a few moments; looked at the trimmed light brown hair that covered her sex. His cock strained in his pants in its eagerness to get inside her. He ...

... could easily have just pushed her back against the table and taken her. She wouldn’t have objected. She would probably have welcomed it. But the pleasure of sex was about the journey and Jack wanted to take her on a journey that she would never forget. He stood up. She gazed down at the huge bulge in his trousers; the look on her face told him that if her hands were free she would have reached for him. He had no doubt that she would have fallen to her knees and taken him in her mouth. He turned her around to face the door leading into the shop itself. Once inside her face became like that of a child in a candy store; aghast at all the delights around. He guided her past the uniform section – police, firemen, nurses and French maid outfits to name just a few role play delights – and into the BDSM section. Her head turned to look at the racks containing leather goods - Basques, masks, skirts, panties and bras -, past them to racks of restraints and then to the items of discipline. Her eyes lit up at the items hanging from perhaps the largest rack in the store. Whips of many kinds hung there; even a couple of bull whips were on display. There was also a large display of floggers and beneath them an even larger display of paddles. Her eyes however, rested on a large cylindrical container full of canes. Jack knew that their exact number was fifty-two. He looked at her face; she was drooling. He knew from experience that there was many a lady out there who liked the thought of being ...