Freedom and the Widow Part 1
This story is authored by
Midsummer Man, please send comments and appreciation to
Freedom and the Widow Part 1
Victoria Anita Cavendish had
led a very secure and sheltered life, her husband had kept her on a pedestal
and her typically upper-middle-class background had unconsciously allowed
her to be controlled by him throughout their married life. This was never a
strict control, but merely what was perceived as the natural order of
Husband leading doting wife; a Victorian concept which she had accepted
without truly realising it. Sex was something which had procured her two
children, now grown up and both living abroad; it was rarely something which
was enjoyed for its erotic pleasure, she had dutifully laid down for her
husband of course, but apart from those fleeting first years of marriage,
this was a rare routine and she rarely reached orgasm, except on those
occasions when she let her mind wander to a dark alter ego which she was
quick to dismiss when her portly husband had finished grunting. It was
always her dutiful routine; a nudge in the back and then a little dabble at
her vagina with blunt fingers was what passed for foreplay; the probing for
five minutes and the grunting, followed by a kiss goodnight. She loved him,
but knew nothing of lust and excitement.
Now at 52 he was gone, leaving her with a
large detached house and huge insurance pay-out. As soon as she stepped back
over the threshold on returning from the funeral with a few close friends
and relatives, she felt a change come over her; she didn't know what it was,
but as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her prim and still
shapely form dressed in black, she felt how it was somehow suited to her. A
couple of Her close friends who lived in nearby houses, one divorced, and
another whose husband attended the family home about as regularly as
Halley's comet, were quick to comfort Her and spoke of 'the bridge club' and
other activities she could now attend more often. It was then that she
caught the smile of the woman who had arranged the flowers; someone known to
a friend of a friend, so Victoria had invited her through common courtesy,
she had noticed her look of disdain at perpetuating her mundane life. She
cut in as she adjusted a bouquet at the table.
"I think a nice holiday in the sun is what
you'd need." And she turned and walked to the far end of the table where
another bouquet required her attention, and out of ear-shot. The two friends
sneered at each-other as Victoria pondered what she'd said; a little warm
sun appeared in the back of her mind. She turned to her friends.
"Who is that lady? I know she has a floral
business but that's all." The divorced one, Angela, looked down her nose as
she peeked over the shoulder at the flower woman, who was also middle-aged,
shapely, and had a certain presence about her.
"That is Wanda Summers, she is a very
'independent' lady, acquired house, business, and fortune from various
husbands ... some say her floral business is just a cover for something
else; she doesn't have to work after all; it can't be that much of a hobby."
The 'Business Widow', Martha, concurred.
"Yes, she lives on her own and is often seen
fleetingly with male companions, though she never seems to be with the same
one for long; not publicly anyhow, I suppose she may have a special one at
home, but no-one's ever been introduced." Victoria looked enviously at the
'Independent' woman; she saw how men smartly stepped aside as she went about
her arrangements, not out of routine masculine courtesy as they would with a
female like her, they somehow seemed in awe of Wanda Summers. Victoria's
pussy tingled with a strange awe also.
As soon as Martha and Angela scuttled off to
bore another bridge companion, Victoria took her chance to talk with the
woman. She was in a convenient corner, out of earshot of most of the guests.
"Err ... hello, Wanda? I'd like to thank you
for the beautiful displays; it has made the day so much easier." The brown
eyed woman smiled warmly.
"It's really my pleasure, I so love flowers;
you must come and see my garden sometime. I suspect you have been feeling
it, now you are on your own." Victoria responded almost automatically to the
suggestion, surprising herself with her answer.
"Actually, I've been feeling rather
optimistic, almost elated, and seeing your independent way has inspired me
as much as your flowers." Wanda smiled knowingly and clasped her hand.
"Kept you like a bird in a cage did he? You
don't have to wear black and play bridge all day now he's gone you know."
She watched intently as Victoria turned her head wistfully and looked at the
grey and unexciting people behind her; a life she wished to leave behind
her. Victoria turned to face her again and smiled wickedly.
"Oh, I don't mind wearing black, it makes me
feel sort of 'sexy', but I think I'd like to see that garden of yours; would
tomorrow be too soon?" Wanda was delighted; she knew from the few moments
with Victoria that there was a side to her which was bursting to free itself
like a caged animal. Her possible penchant for black was a good sign she
would have 'independent' traits like hers.
"Tomorrow would be just fine!" She gave
Victoria a business card and they arranged a time.
Gradually the house emptied and Victoria
slumped in a lounge chair, filling a wine glass to the brim, she gulped down
a copious amount and laughed aloud as she kicked off her shoes and left them
in the middle of the floor; there was a time a very short while ago, when
she would never have dreamed of discarding them so; she would have meekly
attended the shoe cupboard and placed them there in an orderly fashion;
neither would she have been so liberal and un-ladylike with the wine. She
had loved her husband, but found she was more in a state of relief than in
mourning. As she downed more wine she caught sight of the reflection of her
legs in a full-length mirror which had been placed by Wanda to further
emphasise her flower arrangements. Victoria studied her black stocking clad
legs and hiked her dress up several inches; yes, her thighs were still in
good shape and could do with a little more exposure, she thought. Her mind
went first to short dresses and stilettos and then to the outrageous thought
of a skimpy bikini on a beach somewhere. She sighed and then giggled; the
world was her oyster, and she would be glad to glean some worldly advice
from someone she intended to make a friend of, tomorrow.
Victoria wound the window right down and
sampled the fresh breeze through her hair as she drove to the address on the
card; it was not far off, in an equally well-to-do area, her bridge friends
had been right, she had done well for herself. She pulled into the drive of
a substantial Italianate detached house which must have had at least six
bedrooms. The warm glow of the spring sun radiated from its painted stucco
walls as she rang the bell in the formidable oak front door. She was a
little taken aback when a man-servant opened the door and bowed before
ushering her in. She smiled to herself as he walked her through the hall of
the house, past a magnificent staircase, through to huge patio doors which
led to a poolside canopy, under which sat Wanda who smiled broadly.
Victoria was offered a seat by the
man-servant who bowed again and left. Wanda clicked her fingers and another
male attendant appeared; she simply pointed to a decanter on the table which
was half empty. The male attendant was back within a minute with a full one,
with fresh ice and two glasses, he bowed and left. Wanda smiled in a
satisfied way as he went.
"I do so prefer male servants, don't you?"
Victoria had never had a male servant, butler or home-help of any
description, but something about the way Wanda simply pointed and they
obeyed immediately made her tingle a little; she wished she'd had.
"I wouldn't know; I've only ever had a lady
come and do the cleaning chores." Wanda noted her mischievous smile as she
responded and looked lustily to where he had departed too.
"They are so obedient and hard-working, given
the proper training; maybe we could find one for you, now you will have
better things to do than be the dutiful house-wife." She smiled knowingly at
her new companion, who was showing more and more, the signs which would mean
she would be like-minded. Victoria took a deep breath, her nipples hardened
and her pussy tingled in earnest; she couldn't hide the fact that something
within her found the idea of having an obedient male at her command, very
Wanda showed Victoria around
the closer edges of her large garden; the lawn was impeccably trimmed and
wed free, various blooms such as blood-red roses shone out like beacons. A
gardener tending the plants stopped and bowed as they approached.
"That's OK Bradbury, you may carry on. You're
doing a very good job; you do enjoy giving your time to arrange things just
as I want them, don't you?" The gardener swallowed hard before replying, a
little shy of the woman accompanying Wanda, and aware of her slightly
puzzled expression, but still very keen to be of service to the woman who
owned the garden, and everything in it.
"Yes madam, I am very pleased to be of
service to you, and hope that you will allow me continue to be of use to
your associates." Victoria gave a wry smile and found her pussy tingling
once more as she viewed the male, who kept his head slightly bowed before
the woman, who was obviously very much in charge.
"Oh yes Bradbury, I am very happy to retain
you; I understand you will be tending Charlotte Ray's garden later on, I
understand you like to be of service to her too?" Victoria suddenly felt as
though she were also in command as Bradbury blushed visibly as he responded.
"Yes madam, very much so." Wanda gave a
satisfied smile as she gestured to the male to continue work and the two
continued their stroll. Victoria was as much astounded at the absolute
confidence of her new friend as she was of the male's obvious willingness to
serve in a way which more than hinted at the relationship being more than
just that of a dutiful employee to employer; he enjoyed giving his time- was
he doing it for free? Victoria was about to ask, when Wanda sniggered
knowingly and moved to the next subject, though keeping her keen on what
she'd just witnessed.
"Talking of Charlotte Ray, she and some of my
other friends have a little place to go abroad, where we often have
get-togethers, or just go individually when the whim takes us. It's at
another friend's villa in St Tropez; the cost would be very minimal if you'd
like to come with me. I'm thinking of going in a couple of days' time; I
know it's short notice but I'm sure you would appreciate it, it's nice and
warm at this time of year." Victoria needed no time to make a decision, she
liked more and more what she saw of Wanda's lifestyle, and would be glad to
meet friends of hers.
"I'd love too! But I think I'll need to do
some clothes shopping over the next couple of days; I'd so like to get away
from my old image as soon as possible." Wanda smiled as she looked Victoria
up and down; she was dressed neatly but plainly and Wanda knew that this
shapely and attractive middle-aged woman would easily be transformed into
the sort of woman she and her associates would be proud to have as a friend.
"That's fantastic; would you mind if I came
shopping with you? I know it's probably been a while since you went clothes
shopping 'just for fun' as it were; you said you liked black? When we go to
St Tropez, I shall take you to a boutique that we all frequent out there;
you'll be amazed." Victoria was more than happy to have Wanda accompany her,
and the two went that very afternoon, and the following day. Wanda took her
to some of her favourite places and Victoria was soon treating herself to
curve hugging dresses, skirts and blouses; spiky shoes soon followed. She
took in a deep breath and revelled in a little self-esteem as she viewed
herself in the full length mirror whilst trying a black blouse and black
pencil skirt; this was incredibly risqué to her, and she could not wait to
get away to the Mediterranean to flaunt her new-found shape and persona. She
was so glad Wanda was there to encourage her; she might never have dared had
she been alone. Before they parted on the day before their flight, Wanda
gave her a couple of website addresses, of groups she was with, and one
about St Tropez. She smiled wickedly as she mentioned one site.
"Take everything you see there with a pinch
of salt; I hope you won't find anything too shocking, I know you've been
'out of circulation' for a while." Victoria bade her goodbye till tomorrow
and drove home like the wind to finish packing and view the sites; she
normally used the computer for no more than checking bank accounts,
e-mailing friends, or on-line shopping; she was to be awakened to a world
she had only previously thought about when deep in orgasm. As she keyed in
the address, she took a deep breath and smiled at the logo, which was a
woman wearing a crown and pointing upwards. She found input from Wanda, who
had given her username and followed some of the topics; her spine tingled
and she glowed with pleasure as she read of the assertiveness of her fellow
females and down-to-earth talk of the best ways to keep males under control,
how to get the best from a male servant, fairness in the treatment of men
who needed know their place.
She gasped at some of the entries which
advised of other sites; having tapped them in feverishly, she found herself
gently toying with her pussy as she viewed dialogues and pictures of mature
women with men willingly kneeling at their feet. She interjected sessions on
the computer with trying on her new outfits prior to packing them. She stood
proudly in black blouse and pencil skirt, viewing herself in the mirror with
one eye, whilst viewing the computer screen displaying an assertive woman in
charge of an obedient male with the other; this was the outfit she'd wear to
go out there. It would be hot, but they were to arrive in the evening; she
would so like to have a male like the one in the picture, and now knew how
this may be achieved. She stripped naked except for black stockings and
stilettos, and worked herself to a satisfying orgasm as she viewed the
pictures of males controlled by women, and contacts from males pledging
their souls to assertive middle-aged women. She gritted her teeth in ecstasy
as a whole new world opened up before her.
Wanda applauded her new friend when she
arrived dressed for the trip the next day; she pointed two man-servants at
the car, and they eagerly took her luggage from it before parking it for
her. Bothe gave her as casual a glance as they could without seeming to
stare; her nipples hardened as she sensed they were in awe of her. Wanda
beamed with delight at the attractive pencil skirted woman before her.
"What a transformation! We are certainly
going to have some fun when we're out there, and you will be so happy to
wear just what you want when you come back. Trust me." Victoria got a
similar buzz from the attentions of the cab driver; his voice broke as he
dared ask where they were flying to from the airport as he respectfully
accepted a tip and ushered some porters over to help with the luggage,
Victoria smiled as she noted the bulge in his loose leggings. Wanda smiled
sternly and offered her reply.
"We're off to southern Europe to purchase
some male slaves." The cab driver smiled weakly as his bulge increased; he
simply accepted the response without question. The two women strutted off as
the porters pushed their luggage behind them.
Victoria got a real buzz as the doors of the
airliner were opened after it had taxied to its destination after landing;
the warmth hit her as soon as the doors were opened. She had been abroad
many times before, but never under these circumstances; two weeks in a villa
or hotel somewhere, sat by a pool or on a beach while her husband relaxed
had seemed OK at the time, but she knew this was going to be different and
she was already intent on doing this as often as she could.
Wanda clenched Victoria's hand as the cab
wound its way up to her friend's villa in the hills overlooking the Plage de
Pampelonne; a beautiful stretch of beach popular with all who visited St
Tropez. The 'villa' was more like a chateau; Victoria smiled and gasped as
she viewed the beautiful building; rambling roses adorning the lower reaches
of its white walls, and soft orange lamps glowed welcomingly in the twilight
of the warm evening. Even before the cab had come to a halt, the large front
doors opened and a woman in a sari like dress clapped her hands and two
man-servants dressed in loose white tops and bottoms scurried out obediently
and were overseen by the woman who carried a short crop in her hand. As the
bags were lifted from the car the cab driver smiled knowingly at the woman
in the sari and licked his lips. She merely turned her nose up at him with
an air of superiority as he got back in and drove off. Victoria's jaw
dropped slightly as the woman in the dark green sari whipped out at one of
the males to encourage a little more haste from him; her pussy was already
moist with imagining what would greet her here; she was not disappointed by
this introduction. Wanda smiled at her friend's obvious enthusiasm for what
"I now know you will love being here, you
will be a different woman when we return home, but enough of that; lets
enjoy our stay." The woman with the sari turned to them, having ensured the
males had carried out their duty efficiently; her stern complexion changed
immediately into a warm smile as the two servants disappeared into the
"Hello again Wanda ... and you must be
Victoria, I have heard a little about you and know you'll be very
comfortable here and most welcome. Madam Cherie is anxious to help you,
following your sad loss and will help you discover a whole new outlook." She
winked a Victoria who was already feeling more than comfortable, even before
entering the house.
"Madame Cherie apologises for not being able
to meet you at the door; she is being attended to in the main conservatory;
please follow me." They followed the elegant woman into the palatial
building, which was lavishly furnished; many pictures hung on the walls in
various positions, all were of female subjects; some simply portraits,
others of ancient or mythical scenes, depicting victorious women slaying
beasts or males. They passed several rooms with open doors which were
decorated in deep colours and furnished with plush black leather seating.
They entered a huge conservatory bedecked with exotic plants and cane
furniture; in the middle on a chaise-longue rested a mature and buxom
red-headed woman, her hair up in a bun, giving her ample proportions a
seriousness that could not be denied. Kneeling at her feet was a nervous
looking male, naked but for a pair of white shorts; he trembled as he
carefully painted her toe-nails a bright cherry-red. He nearly emptied the
contents of the bottle as his mistress jolted with a start in recognition of
her guests' arrival. She held her arms apart as she greeted Wanda.
"Please forgive me! I'm so glad to have you
back here again; you do not come often enough, and Victoria? Wanda told me
so much about you in a call the other day, I feel as though I know you
already, I'm sure we'll be very close friends." The male blushed as red as
the nail varnish with this unexpected audience; it would not have been
necessary to make him aware, and he knew his mistress would make good use of
the situation. She looked sternly down at him.
"I would have met you at the door; only this
servant was so close to completing his task. You see he was caught doing
something that males are keen to do much too often, whilst viewing some
guests by the pool from an upper window. The maid who caught him was so
pleased to convey this to me; she will have her reward tomorrow, in full
view of all the other female staff, and what will she do LeClerc?" She
lifted her toes deftly, making the kneeling male delay his work on her nails
and look up to respond.
"She will cane me mistress." She smiled with
pleasure and pointed to her toes once more.
"Yes LeClerc here has rather got in the way
of my schedule, but I trust you ladies will understand that I must install
discipline within my household at all times." She looked a little sterner as
LeClerc looked almost pleased at what he faced.
"I warn you LeClerc, if you are caught again,
I may think that you are allowing your submissive nature to take over
completely, and are purposely taking advantage of disciplinary action. If so
you will be ejected from the household." With that the male's attitude
changed completely. Cherie sneered victoriously as he bowed to the floor
before her feet.
"Please mistress, I would never do that, I
cherish serving you so much." Cherie patted his head and smiled.
"You just finish that last toe-nail, I know how
you've enjoyed doing my hands and feet, and especially the Brazilian. If you
behave well after your discipline tomorrow, I may reward you." Wanda chuckled as
Victoria looked on, dumbstruck; someone of her background was unlikely to know
what a 'Brazilian' was, and the intimate nature of one being executed by a male
servant would be beyond her wildest dreams. The male finished his task and left
the room. They would now have Cherie's undivided attention.
Cherie now hugged Victoria and looked her up
and down with a smile.
"I can see that Wanda has helped you bring
you out of yourself within a very short time, though I suspect that the true
realisation was all yours; I was in a similar position a few years ago. I
had a husband whom I loved dearly, but there was always something missing.
When he went I found that so many men are willing to do just as they are
told, and are really there for our pleasure alone. Looking at you now, I
know you will come to fully appreciate that. Come, let's go outside by the
pool and have a drink, it is such a warm evening."
Victoria strutted through to the pool in her
stilettos and tight pencil skirt; her breasts firm with nipples protruding
excitedly through the silk as she stepped out to the softly lit area by the
illuminated pool, the air was warmer outside than within the house. She
looked out across the vista that greeted her; lights twinkling in the
distance as they ran in an arc around the Plage de Pampelonne, this was
truly an enchanting place. Cherie had them sat comfortably as they chatted
and were served in obedient fashion by many man-servants as two maids
frolicked in the pool, their duties over, they also clicked their fingers at
the dutiful males, who also brought them drinks without question.
The tongues of Cherie and Wanda loosened as
they imbibed alcoholic beverages; Victoria's pussy tingled as she listened
intently; the more she heard, the more she liked this lifestyle. Cherie
giggled as she sipped a Martini.
"I do have a distinct fondness for that
LeClerc, though he does go too far in using his submissiveness to gain
treats; I shall have him inspect my Brazilian close up after that maid has
punished him tomorrow; he is very good with his tongue." Victoria almost
dropped her drink, the others giggled all the more. Victoria regained her
"Brazilian? Good with his tongue ... you
don't mean... ?" She blushed, as much as with having displayed her
ignorance, as with the thought of being orally pleased by a male; something
she was only very vaguely aware of." Wanda immediately came over and sat
tight against Victoria hugging her.
"Oh you poor thing! We keep forgetting your
sweet background; you look so much the worldly woman dressed the way you
are. You've obviously never been pleased that way by a man, when you are
good and ready, we shall arrange it for you." Victoria smiled and gulped
back her drink, her panties wet with the evening's intimate conversations
and the thought of being licked.
"I should certainly love to try that; do
males like doing it, or do they have to be coerced?" Cherie roared with
"Oh I do so love your innocence; we shall
have real pleasure in reforming your life and having you enjoy it to the
full; most males get a great deal of enjoyment from sampling the scent of a
woman that way, many would die to serve such an attractive woman as you that
way, especially if they are faced with a prospect like this..." Victoria's
jaw dropped again as Cherie peeled her loose dress to one side and showed
the newly liberated widow her freshly shaven pussy with its neatly trimmed
'tash' just above it. Wanda laughed.
"THAT is what's known as a 'Brazilian'" Wanda
squeezed her friend tightly and smiled at her.
"Would you like one too? If you change into
something a little more comfortable, we can have one of the man-servants
attend you right away; it's best done when you are nice and relaxed, like
you are now." Victoria did not hesitate; her pencil skirt was making her
horny but she was in need of refreshing herself anyhow; the idea of having
her pussy shaved by a male was very exiting too. The two applauded as she
stood up and was to be shown to her room by a man-servant.
"I'll just freshen up and get into something
more appropriate then!" She followed the male who led her silently up a
beautiful marble staircase to a room with an exotically arched door. The
room was exquisitely appointed and the window looked down at the twinkling
lights of the bay. The room had its own en-suite with shower; she quickly
stripped and looked at herself in the mirror; she giggled as her nipples
stood out like thumbs with excitement. She quickly showered and chose a long
silken loose fitting dress and soft sandals; her pussy tingled as she went
back with no panties on, she was amazed at her own daring already.
When she got back to the pool, the woman who
had previously worn the green sari was there. She was now dressed in leather
boots and jodhpurs with a tight leather top which expressed her curves
exquisitely. Victoria looked at her in awe; she would love an outfit like
that. The three women smile with satisfaction as Victoria's face spoke
volumes about her approval of the dominant woman's attire. Cherie broke the
silence as Victoria patted at the woman's leather clothing enviously.
"I know Wanda intends taking you to Madam
Pompidou's in town; we all love her leather wear and ... err, 'other'
equipment ... for riding etc. I am sure you will find many things to your
taste there." The other women smirked as they thought of the abundance of
whips and harnesses that were also available; they would allow the widow to
break into her new found confidence of her own accord, and did not mention
the accessories as yet.
"Lola here was about to go out to her club
for the evening; that's somewhere else we'll all visit presently, but she
commands the man-servants so well; she'll gladly find the right one for your
task before she leaves. Lola smiled broadly as she whipped her crop into her
hand and strutted into the house in search of a willing candidate. She
emerged shortly with a male of about 30 who carried a small bag and a bowl
of hot water. Lola pointed to the floor and he immediately bent to the feet
of Victoria. Cherie clapped her hands.
"Thank you Lola, I am sorry to have delayed
you; please let everyone at the club know we'll be there tomorrow night, we
have a new friend for everyone to meet." Lola advised it was a pleasure and
no problem at all. She swatted the kneeling man-servant for good measure,
commanding that he do a good job or face the consequences, then left for the
Victoria downed another large vodka and coke
before exposing her pussy to the warm night air. She noted the bulge in the
timid man-servant's leggings as he eyed the somewhat bushy pussy which he
would be delighted to transform. Victoria gasped and the other two giggled
as the man-servant deftly lathered the delicious mound of Venus before him;
his cock rigid with excitement. Cherie noted the enthusiastic bulge and
probed the male's backside with the heel of her sandal.
"You be sure to keep you mind on the job at
hand; if you nick my friend, just slightly, I will have great pleasure in
tanning your balls with a crop; you won't even dream about using them for
another week." She turned and smiled broadly at Wanda, knowing there was no
chance his expert hands would fail him; his erection and enthusiasm will
have been generated by some promise from Lola; likely that he would be
allowed to perform the task for the leather goddess as usual, and then
service her smoothly shaven pussy with his tongue.
Another man-servant plied Victoria with more
drinks as she tingled with pleasure as the male's gentle hands carefully
shaved her mature and eager pussy, except for a little bar at the top,
trimmed flat, just for effect. The male's cock dribbled as he softly padded
his latest creation dry, having rinsed the soapy water off. The night air
which was cooler now, felt fresh on her sleek and shaven pussy. Her bulging
womanhood was now more than ready for the attentions of a willing and
subservient male. The two friends were anxious that she should be treated to
one as soon as possible.
After much loosening of the tongues of the
two experienced women, due to the quantities of alcohol consumed, Victoria
eventually found her way to her luxurious bedroom with her mind buzzing with
newly acquired erotic thoughts. Her senses were also buoyed by her
excitement at being somewhere warm and exotic; and as she slid between
silken sheets, her hand slid down to the equally silky feel of her smoothly
shaven pussy. She could not wait to try on another outfit tomorrow, and her
pussy buzzed as she thought of going with no panties, as she teased her
clitoris she dreamed of having a male at her feet, begging to tongue her;
she moaned with pleasure as her orgasm lapsed into deep sleep.
Eric Chandler had spent the day at the beach at Pamplonne, lusting at some
of the mature beauties he’d seen there, and fantasising about the more
assertive looking examples as he waded waste deep in the warm Mediterranean;
his cock jutting unseen below the waterline. He was holidaying here on his
own; he’d been widowed six years ago, and had had a couple of relationships
since, but still had not found what he was really looking for; he had always
had a penchant for dominant women, but had never had the courage to take the
step. As he got older he found that the urge grew stronger, rather than
beginning to diminish.
His lust had grown throughout the day and now he wandered about the main
area by the quay, looking for a certain sort of club. He was getting tired
as the small hours wore on; St Tropez was not the sort of area known for
exotic nightclubs, but he knew there were a few, and one in particular-he
just had to find it. He resigned himself in need of his bed, and as he
wandered under the plane trees past a taxi rank, he saw a sight that stopped
him in his tracks. A gorgeous leather-clad woman pointed scornfully into
the rear of a cab and a male obediently climbed in, followed by her. He
watched for the direction that the cab took, but it was hopeless; it could
have gone in any direction on reaching the arterial road, out of site.
As he strolled back his memory strove to keep an image of the look on that
woman’s face; pure control. His cock stayed half-erect as he pondered what
the male in the cab would be treated too as he passed through the small
shops of Boulevard Louis Blanc. Opposite a café he saw a shop display which
was of immediate interest to him; though it was dark inside he pressed his
face against the window and smirked at the leather skirts and full length
hide coats which clothed the slim and elegant mannequins within, as he tried
to sniff through the glass in his inebriated state, what met his eyes next
had his cock as stiff as it had been all day. To the rear of the dark shop,
a door opened revealing a bright light behind it; a slim mature woman with
bouffant hair stood, gesticulating to someone beyond. It was not the woman
who excited him; the walls were adorned with leather bull-whips, crops and
leashes. Beyond the woman’s waving arms he could just make out further
mannequins wearing leather cat-suits; the rear room was no store-room, it
was an additional shop which specialised in leather fetish wear.
He slunk away from the window as the woman closed the door; he crossed the
street and stopped to tie a shoe lace, trying to look as innocuous as he
could. He watched with interest as the woman with the bouffant left the
shop and strutted confidently down the street in a tight leather skirt. He
smiled and made a note of the café; he’d be back tomorrow to view some of
the shop’s patrons.
Victoria awoke to brilliant sunshine and warmth which seemed almost
tropical; she smiled like a child as she looked from her window through the
palm trees which waved in the soft warm breeze, down to the beach and the
vibrant blue bay beyond. After showering she chose a loose fitting dress,
which was split up one side, exposing a thigh to one side, hugging her
middle and emphasising her mature breasts; her nipples clearly visible in
the fabric. The dress was set off by sandals which elevated her as much as
the stilettos she had worn for the trip, but were much easier to walk in.
Cherie and Wanda sat at a table just beyond the large conservatory, beneath
the shade of an awning. Wanda smiled and clapped as Victoria made her
entrance; she was delighted with her new-found choice of apparel, it was
hard to believe she was the same woman who was an acquaintance of those grey
bridge club people back home. Both Wanda and Cherie had chosen similar,
light but sexy outfits for the shopping trip they had planned the night
before, Victoria sat and adjusted her legs in the soft breeze; she had
chosen to wear a tiny thong, and her pussy buzzed with excitement as the
cool zephyrs played on her shaven mound, while they discussed Madam
Pompidou’s and visiting ‘The Club’ for the first time that evening. Cherie
tilted her head and smiled knowingly at Victoria.
“We’ll show you just how much power you have over males; once we get you
into a nice kinky outfit, they’ll be falling over themselves to get to you.
You will not believe you have gone through life the way you have so far,
when you see what’s on offer.” The three had a light breakfast, and then
the barefoot Cherie snapped her fingers and a willing male servant hurried
over to her, knelt and put on a pair of strapped sandals she’d chosen.
Victoria looked on with a strange envy, as he kissed her feet and remained
kneeling as they left.
On the way through the house they met a maid, dressed in a tight black
uniform; who beamed with pleasure as she displayed the cane she carried, and
on a leash and led by her, LeClerc. He tried to look solemn, but dressed
only in a white shroud and obviously naked underneath; his erection lifted
the material as he relished his punishment. Cherie looked sternly at him,
and then glanced at Victoria.
“Kiss our guests feet. I want you to think of her when you are being
thrashed; she may have the opportunity to cane you herself one day.”
Victoria blushed a little and the thong tightened in her cleft as her pussy
swelled to match it as the submissive male eagerly bent to kiss the new
mistress’s feet; he studied the pertly mature flesh through the straps of
the sandals and memorised each taught muscle. He would enjoy the caning all
the more now. The haughty maid jerked impatiently on his leash, eager to
show her domination and exact her punishment on the subservient male. She
bade them goodbye and they watched as she opened a door to one of the larger
lounges; a circle of about eight maids some eight or nine strong, clapped as
the proud maid led her victim in for punishment before them. Cherie clapped
too as the door was closed behind them.
“She will cane his bare ass whilst the other maids watch, then to add to his
humiliation, he’ll be made to do the very thing he has been punished for
whilst kneeling at the punisher’s feet. It is so ironic really.”
Victoria’s pussy tingled all the more, as just as they left through the
front door, the whoosh of the cane and the male’s first cry of pain was
audible throughout the house.
The thrill continued for Victoria as they drove down to the centre of St
Tropez; it all seemed like a dream, so detached was she now, from her former
life. They parked the car near the market and strolled amongst the stalls
under the plane trees as they made their way to Boulevard Louis Blanc.
Having donned her sunglasses like her two companions, Victoria began to feel
so naturally assertive, as she strutted with the other two confident women;
aware of males of all sizes and ages stepping carefully aside and viewing
the trio with a noticeable sense of awe. As they approached their
destination Cherie steered them first into the café opposite.
“Let’s have a quick latte before we begin, to sharpen the senses.” This was
a routine the women often followed, as Madam Pompidou’s could sometimes be
busy, and they liked to have her full attention when choosing fetish-wear in
the specialty shop to the rear. Victoria took off her glasses and her pussy
bulged with delight as her eyes met with a male sat a couple of tables away;
she could not help notice how he looked at her with a sense of wonderment as
he smiled; his jaw dropping as he got an immediate response which made his
cock stiffen. He quickly looked elsewhere shyly as she continued to smile
Eric swallowed deeply as he dared look in her direction again; a sixth sense
told him that these were women who were independent and got what they want,
as much as their obviously assertive attitude. There was something about
the women in the split skirt in particular; his balls tingled as he studied
her discretely. After about 20 minutes they left; Victoria turned and gave
a stern smile at the male whose eyes could not keep from looking at her.
His cock stiffened as he watched the mature and shapely woman step out into
the sunshine; he quickly fantasised about being on a floor, kneeling before
the three women, they were so attractive.
His fantasy hit new levels as they strutted across the road and entered the
leather shop; his jaw dropped and he gasped audibly. The waiter who had
appeared unseen behind him, smiled broadly as it was obvious what interested
this client; Eric blushed visibly and tried to look nonchalant. The waiter
owed a lot of his business to the shop opposite, and he was patently aware
that the popularity of his café owed more than a little to certain people’s
love of leather; when he brought another coffee ordered by Eric, he winked
knowingly at him before leaving. Eric was a little puzzled, and then he
noticed a card wedged between cup and saucer. A silhouette of a woman in
boots was on the card; ‘Club Zero’ read the legend; ‘erotique’ and ‘cuir’
were words that hit him; his balls now tingled as never before, this was
just the club he was looking for.
This story is authored by
Midsummer Man, please send comments and appreciation to