Boots – A story of surrender

thigh high boots and a crop

Well here we are she thought, waiting for him, she looked out the window onto the mountain, peaceful and quiet for now. Always a challenge this one, but always fun. It was worth the takedown with him, to get to that pure surrender, a lot of work and well worth it. With that she took the last sip of wine, setting the glass near the counter’s edge and put some music on, and began to get ready.


It was always like a ritual, fingers slipping over all her different clothes, and with a knowing smile tonight was not about sweet and lace, tonight was about rob.. the very first thing she did was take out her boots and place them on her dresser. God he loved those, and she adored the fascination he had with them. Clean, dirty, didn’t matter he always got excited and always had a willing mouth.. along with everything else.

She let her long hair down with a shake, a quick glance in the mirror and even she saw how excited and sparkling her eyes were… oh he was in trouble tonight, and with that she threw her head back with a hearty laugh. Distracted, no longer going through the clothes she began to go through toys.. . canes out against the wall, floggers laid out on the table, rope and cuffs and leather binders all finding their place. Adding a new leather strap.. this one special, it wrapped over her boot with room for the dildo so she could wear these boots he so adored and foot fuck him, face down onto the carpet, ass high and marked in the air.. yep tonight was going to be fun.. wait till he sees this she thought. And yet there was more.

She looked towards the closet, a big shopping bag dropped off by her trainer friend, a full smile covered her face knowing she had a few surprises for the brat tonight. She loved the fact that he played hard, it just brought out the best in them both. Pushing each other, daring out that inner beast.. she loved the look in his eyes when she had him.. down, owned, taken.. tonight was going to be big fun.

Opening yet another drawer, she threw the strap-on onto the bed next to the shopping bag.. special, tonight was going to be very special. And with a glance, she looked at the clock, time to stop dreaming and get ready.

She never dressed in any order, oddly enough the things that made her feel a certain way went on first.. sitting on the edge of the bed as she put on her thigh highs.. and then with a twinkle of her emerald eyes, stepped into her boots, zipping them up as she wriggled her foot getting comfortable. She only wore these on occasion. They weren’t clean she thought with a smile and they will be soon. Basically naked she stood before the mirror. At last adding a leather thong, leather corset with studs.. her fighting gear she thought with a laugh. Some red lipstick, she knew she looked good.

She waited for his arrival- first time visiting her at her retreat, high up in the mountains, no one around anywhere she thought with a grin. Music on, dressed, candles lit, one last walk around when she heard the car drive up and a swift knock at the door. She didn’t answer, instead of throwing from the upper window cuffs and collar with one single word “Strip”. She caught his eyes as they shot up at her… one, two, three seconds passed as she finally said.. “Is that a no?” Immediately he began removing clothing when she yelled back .. “Leave the boots on” and laughed out loud.

He was beginning to sense her mood, was a bit weary but his excitement was obvious… nothing nice tonight.

Finally he appeared at the bottom of the stairs and all he could do was look up, and when he did, his eyes first locked on her boots, those boots, then slowly up her leather-clad body till their eyes locked. He was beginning to swell with excitement, no hiding anything now. Naked, cuffed and hard.. and yes, she liked him just like that, as he was now accustomed to be. Descending the stairs slowly, his eyes flickered back to those damn boots. She had all she could do to not smile, she felt so damn good.. and so very ready.

“Knees” was all she barked out, and he dropped quick.. he had an ever-growing place in her heart, but that was for another time. Tonight they were bull and bullfighter, she made herself laugh, if he only knew what they did to the bull’s balls.. ha.. go figure.

Reaching him she kicked his legs wide apart, one leg with the boot tip, the other full foot on. She wrapped her gloved hand into his hair and yanked his head back hard as her right hand struck from nowhere slamming into his cheek, leaning forward her breath hot, sweet, close to his lips, she sucked in his bottom lip and bit down hard. That bitter coppery taste filled into her mouth, the scent filling her.. she had drawn first blood. When he went to kiss her she slapped him again hard. Noting the change in his eyes.. the resolve, that.. that, certain look. It was on.

“Evening Mistress, I am here to serve as you wish” he muttered. “Are you rob, are you truly here for how “I” wish?”. .. then she continued, tonight is consensual, nonconsensual play”… “shit” was all she remembered him mutter, yet when she looked back down at him.. hard as a rock, she just laughed. And with that simple exchange, began the evening.

Hand still wrapped into his hair, she dragged him into the back room, leaving him crawling, scrambling to find his footing to barely keep up with her. It was all dark, except the back brick wall was lit. She stood him there, about 2 feet from the wall with a sharp “Don’t move.” being the only spoken words.
Blond in a leather suite
She began to circle him, slowly.. a pinch here, a tug there, a punch and tug as if she was inspecting him. Pressing up against his back, her full breasts in spikey studs digging into his back, but he only leaned back against her more. Her breath was hot on his neck and shoulders, biting into him, teeth sinking into his neck, shoulders, arms.. and the hardest bite on his cute tush. Leaving the first of many marks to come his way that night.

She walked around to face him, their eyes locked yet again, fire in each.. the beast was out in them both. She lifted her hands slapping hard open-handed onto his chest. He barely staggered and kept his gaze. Over and over the hits got harder, chest reddening, breath hard and quick, yet he barely blinked, almost puffing out his chest for the next blow, which he gladly got.

She was short, yet solid and finally a closed fist double blow threw him back to the wall, as he tried to catch his step, one quick knee to his groin just about made him slump against the cold brick. She watched him fight to catch his breath, eyes watering but always so tenacious she thought. Finally, he corrected himself and stood again, as before off the wall. She slammed her hands against him, throwing him back, practically bouncing him off the wall, over and over, yet he came back up to her, and the fucker dared to laugh.

One quick punch to the face and kick to his balls sent him reeling back, and slumping down.. again their eyes were locked, she stepped forward, her foot over his cock and balls. Her foot lowered, touching, rubbing, and slowly pressing as he held her gaze.. “Who are these?”.. “Your Ma’am”.. absolutely right boy she said aloud. She continued to assert more pressure, feeling the flesh flatten underfoot and slapped him hard yet again. With that, she saw some color.. nice.. very nice.

Putting her full weight and then pulling him forward to his knees while he caught his breath, she pressed up against him, her scent filling as there was no doubt of her excitement. She felt his hand reach out, and travel up from her ankle when she froze “ Who told you to touch?”. She kicked hard, the blow forcing him back, laid him out onto his back. He tried to curl, protecting himself, and with one threatening look, as much as he wanted, he relented with a shiver, laying back as she kicked his legs wide apart and spread eagle. Sharp kicks to his inner thighs brought colorfast. She looked at him carefully, noting that by now he had found his happy place.

She attached a long cold chain leash and without even looking back dragged him from the house into her meadow.. laying him out against a large rock that stood on edge on her property.. besides the rock was a bag, one he hadn’t noticed before, and she removed her leather gloves, stuffing them into his mouth, not for quiet but for effect. In the bag was a pair of training gloves.. small boxing gloves a friend had leaned her earlier.. she put them on, taking a jab at him to see how it felt, he moaned loud into the muffle of leather.

She began to work at his body, shots to his face, chest.. a hard blow to his side making him double over as she had a quick upper jab, too bad he didn’t know what she did in her spare time .. any time he dared moved, she pushed back against the rock.. no toys tonight just her hands. His lip was swollen, but there he was, tall, beautiful and defiant. She worked him over until he finally fell to his knees.. she removed the gloves.. her hands now tender to his flesh, rubbing over swells and marks. She headed to the house with a quick look over her shoulder and a “Don’t move” was all she spoke.

From the kitchen she could see him, barely moving, but rubbing parts of his body, with a smile she knew he was sore.. she emerged drinking some water and looked at him in the moonlight. Beautiful he was, he leaned forward towards her, and one kick took him to the ground reeling yet again. “Who told you to move?” he tried to crawl but now we were in the woods, she picked up a switch,, nothing more then, a young branch and methodically worked him over, following him as he tried to crawl, tried to tell her that he needed a break, but she knew him all too well. The marks were beautiful, fresh stripes over the bruises, and what she couldn’t whip she kicked. For every defiant look or movement came a barrage of action, quick, flurry like, not giving him time to think.

Finally, panting he looked to her.. a single tear trailed down his cheek, and only then did she know she had him, surrendered, hers. “Ground” was the order barked and he laid quickly over the brush, moans and whimpers as she stood straddling over his face, her boots, the ones he loved literally on his hair.. “who owns you rob”, she stared down, both breathing hard, and she finally got a “you do M’lady” … she lifted her foot and placed it onto his face, heel against his mouth, toe against his forehead.. “You are literally under My feet rob, never forget”. She stepped hard holding him down, low, into his place. Eventually straddling over him, pale eyes looking deep into who he was as she lifted her skirt, golden drops marking the already marked body, as always he took this gladly.

At long last pulled him up and headed back into the house.. far from over.. but the surrender had been won.

Last Updated on 5 months by pseudonymous