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Message-ID: <29873asstr$987347403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Peter Mair" <pcmair@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Leather and the lash
Date: Sun, 15 Apr 2001 11:10:03 -0400
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       Hi there,
       i wish to sumbit the following as a story.
        
       Leather and lash
        
       Driving in her BMW sports car through the leafy suburbs of
the city to her home, thirty one year old Stephanie Richardson was
every inch the glossy, high maintenance rich man's wife. Diamond
necklace gleaming in the bright sunlight, dior shades, bright red
lips and nails. 
       Long bright red fingernails which she drummed on the
dashboard waiting for the traffic lights to change.
       Stephanie had returned from an over night stay at an old
boyfriends. Her landowner husband was away on business in the far
east for a week.
       She drove up the long approach road to their ranch just
outside the city. As she exited the car, we see she is dressed in a
business suit, sheer stockings and black patent leather stilletos
with four inch heels.
       Opening the boot, a servant approaches to help. 
       'It is okay Tico, i'll manage' she says firmly taking out a
leather holdall with a padlock. The servant scurries back to the
house.
       Opening the bag once in the safety of her private quarters,
Stephanie, takes out the contents; a black leather cat suit, a cat
of nine tails, thigh high patent leather boots, a mask and hood.
       She musesd back to the following evening. Things always
took the same course with Jacques, a city art dealer. 
       Dressed in her gear, masked, long glossy auburn salon
tresses flowing behind. Him suspened from his loft celing in
chains. Naked save a black hood.
       Admiring her rich bitch talons, inch long fibreglass nail
extensions maintained on a weekly basis by her local beauty salon,
these nails were great for sex, for nights like these, but she was
fed up looking a million dollars all the time. Surveying her
talons,she knew she could not do without them. They were now part
of what she was as a woman. 
       Applying them to his flesh, she broke his skin around the
small of the back. 
       Strutting on her spiky heels, the sound they made on the
stone floor arousing for both parties, she surveyed the hooks on
the wall.
       Each held an instrument of punishment. Her own cat, a long
tailed whip used by prison guards(Jacques collected such things), a
cart whip used to flog slaves............she chose this and told
Jacques how many lashes of the whip he would receive and to make
sure he counted as appropriate after each!
       The telephone rang in the bedroom, breaking her out of her
revery...........
       Next day in the master bedroom getting on her make up she
felt bored, the propect of a couple of days on her own, no
boyfriends in town, no husband. 
       She looked out to the fields far from the house where
workers were picking fruit, overseers with long whips ready to
punish any slacking.........
       hmmm, she thought.......
       Pulling black leather trousers rounf her slim, svelt hips,
she debated on whether to wear her snakeskin cowboy boots. These
were good for shopping.......instead her eyes caught a pair of
strappy patent leather stilletos.
       Perfect for today she purred to herself
       Pulling the long straps round her slim ankle she was turned
on as always when putting on tarty heels.
       The only problem with straps were fastening them with long
nails! 
       Standing up she felt tension in the ball of her foot and
ankles. The result of standing up in thise spiky bootsall  last
night. 
       After the punishment Jacques had stripped her naked save
her sexy boots and bent her over a wooden table for a sound
fucking, She loved being taken from behind in those boots.
       Heels clicking through the marble hallway, Stephanie was
annpyed when a new servant asked her a question about pay.
       She never talked to the help. always going through the
foreman or  overseers first. 
       This plus the prospect of no sex for a few days put the
bitch in a bad mood. 
       She rapped her nails on the coffee table and picked up a
society magazine. 
       The phone rang.... 
       'What now?' she thought to herself. Teetering across the
spacious lounge, her stilletos plunged deep into the thick pile
carpet. These are too high for the house she winced. Her husband
liked her in heels, vamped up to look a million dollars. A
reflection of his own wealth. To look sexier, more desirable than
the other rich wifes in the area. 
       That is the price  have to pay she concluded. Her designer
clothes, nails, hair amd beauty treatments were all part of the
prison she was locked into.
       Picking up the phone she nodded her way through a banal
discussion with what seemed like an older relative.
       Having completed the call she redialled another number.
       'Greg, it's Mrs Richarson. Greg, i don't apprecitate the
slackness in the staff these days. I want you to select someone at
random and have them  punished severly as an example.
        Come to my study now and i'll give you the whip'.
       She replaced the handset.
       In the oak panelled study, sadistic Greg was only too ready
to have a servant whipped but wondered why she was insisting on
giving him this whip in particular.
       Trying not to stare at the beautiful brunettte too much, he
could smell  her expensive perfume and was worried about getting an
erection in her prescence. 
       'There you go' she purred. 'fifteen lashes'. running her
square tipped talons through the tails of the whip, she could see
she was arousing the hillbilly with her actions. 
       All the rich women he and worked for had these long
nails.He wondered to him self whether this was because they were
pleasurable to wear, sexy for their husbands to have their flesh
scratched or just as aa status symbol - 'i'm rich,vain and don't do
dishes'.
       Whatever........ he thought but they sure looked good.
       'That's all' she said curtly geting back into bitch mode.
The hillbilly nodded and left.
       Stephanie wanted to watch the specatcle. On this quiet
sunday sfternoon thee would be no one else around the premises. It
would be a short walk to the barn where it would take place.
       Burly Greg had already started pulling the protesting
victim to the barn as Stephnie wobbled through the courtyard in her
flimsy spike heels. Shit she thought as she wobbled on each cobble! 
       These heels were fine for plush living rooms, for the
bedroom, for hotel lobbys and expensive restaurants but what was
she doing teetering on cobbles on a sunday afternoon? Truth was she
hardly had any flat shoes, certainly no trainers or loafers, truth
was she was a rich high heeled,long nailed, vain rich bitch and
that is all there was to it!
       Steph could see the falling lash as she entered the old
barn but not as yet the cowering wretch chained to the  post.
        She could hear the overseer hillbilly bully boy running
the long tails of the lash through his hands.
       'I said i wanted you to count them motherfucker' he
bellowed. 
       'One' cried the voice fearfully. 
       The flogger grasped the thick handle of his cat and swung
the long tails back over his shoulder.  Hissing and swishing
through the air Stephanie could hear the dreadful impact and the
anguished cry that followed.
       'Two'.
       Stephanie swallowed hard, this was more brutal than she had
thought but she was aroused all the same.
       She moved forward to get a look at the post and victim,
taking care not to make sound on the stone floor with those sharp
heels. The leather material taut against her thighs as she tip toed
even higher than the height of her heels, she could now see white
man perched on a block, naked with his arms manacled high above his
head.
       the overseer had a rhythm going now, whipping his victim
mercilessly. 
       Steph dug her long nails into her palms with each blow. Her
ankles were starting to wobble in their strappy high heeled prison.
She felt guilty but suffused with power. She could stop all of this
with one word.
       Swearing to himself whilst doing so, the overseer grinmaced
and continued the punishment as decreed by mrs Richardson.
         The terrible tails of the lash continued to fall with
deadly accuracy until number fifteen was finsihed.
       Stephanie would stick to whipping games from now on.


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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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