A Day In The Life Of...

I rose late.  I lay in bed luxuriating in the warmth of my duvet as the snow was still on the ground outside.  I smiled as my body glowed from post orgasm, the throb between my legs continuing like an aftershock.  A wonderful start to a Sunday morning.  Of course, I had to get up eventually.  I made myself breakfast and gazed out of the window, admiring the snow that still clung to the ground as birds flocked to the feeders.  I sipped my tea before clearing everything away.  Then I turned my attentions to myself.  Sundays are one of favourite days for complete body preparation.

Thus I prepared my shower and collected all the items I needed.  My regime starts with an all over exfoliation.  It has a soft floral oriental scent with violet, pepper and vanilla notes.  I inhale it and feel wonderfully smooth.  I rinse clean before I apply my moisturising body wash.  I start to layer the scents now.  This one is infused with rosehip, coconut and vitamin E.  Now my body is soft as well as smooth as silk.  After washing my hair, I cleanse my face with an expensive facial wash.  I feel amazing.

I step from the shower and go to my boudoir.  Here I dry my body before applying an intense moisturiser infused with orange blossom and pomegranate.  The scented layers assault my senses.  Now I can dress.  As I do so, I feel a pair of eyes upon me.  I turn around and see you there.  How long have you been watching me?  I have no idea as I've been so engrossed in my regime, making my body scented, smooth and alluring that I haven't noticed anyone watching me.  You kneel at my feet and ask if I require any assistance.  My clothes are laid out on the bed.

'You may help me dress.'  My instruction is obeyed immediately.  You pass my lingerie and I slip it on as you lower your eyes out of respect.  I smile at your embarrassment at being caught out.  You have watched me many times before, lusted and desired to serve me but kept your emotions hidden.  You that gaze at my feet when I wear my leather high heeled shoes, or my stiletto boots.  You who gulps for breath whenever I stand next to you wearing my stockings and suspenders, that you can look upon but never touch.

I peel on my stockings slowly over my legs watching you strain to be good, to be submissive, attentive and never show your emotions.  But I know the affect I have on you.  You silently pass me the rest of my clothes.  I step into my dress and fluff my hair in the mirror before easing into my lovely new shoes.  Shoes that demand you kiss them and pay them due reverence.  Pay your homage to me.  And what do I give you in return?  My full and undivided attention.  Using all my skills and expertise to tease and deny you.  I tell you to stand as I sit on my chair.  I bend you over my lap and I start to spank you, hard.  This is for staring at me.  You thank me though I know you want me to stop.  I smile as you wiggle on my lap.  I spank through your pants, then I remove them to show your bare skin, skin that is already red.  I spank you with my hand and you stop wiggling.  I hear you whimper as you battle with the stinging pain countered with your arousal at being over my lap.  I pick up my favourite slipper and start to slap it hard across your bum.  You jump and yelp.  I need silence from you.  I take your wet pants and stuff them in your mouth.  Now you look at me with sorrowful eyes as I've humiliated you.  I smile as I continue to slap you.

I hear you snivel and whimper through your gag but feel your wetness on my lap, the heat of your groin.  I know I am doing a good job on you.  I love doing this to you, a mixture of pleasure and pain.  I drop the slipper and pick up my hairbrush.  You mew at the sight of it.  I paddle your bum, hitting it with the flat wooden side.  Then I flip it over and drag some of the bristles gently over your tender skin.  Despite your gag, I hear you yelp, whimper and pine.  I repeat the process to reinforce my dominance over you.  You stop yelping, and all I hear are snivels and whimpers.  I drop the hairbrush, remove your gag and tell you to stand.  You instantly kneel and thank me.  I smile and extend my hand.  You take it gently and kiss it.  I dismiss you, my work is done.  Now I can relax and lay down on the sofa, knowing you will wait on me quite literally hand and foot.

And who are you?  You are anyone who visits me here.  Who reads my blog, looks at my photos.  Who desires to serve and submit to me.  And you know who you are.  I catch you peeking, looking up from your desk when you should be working, glancing over your shoulder as I walk by.  You think of me and find you can't concentrate on anything else.  I'm sure your mind wanders to what I could do to you, and what you could do for me.  And how you can be a part in a day of my life.  All you have to decide is whether this day I have recited is fantasy or reality...