By: sfmaster - Published: 14th July, 2017
WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains
Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS
only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state that prohibits such
behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you
include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by e-mail.
The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of the
story for their own, non-commercial use.
Copyright (c) 1997 by mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org
Attn: Readers please feel free to send an e-mail to the author. I do want to hear from you!
"Chance Meeting" by mailto:email@example.com
Author's Note: This story was written during the recession year of 1991, which is why it appears dated. It was never sold commercially at that time.
Brenda Steiner sat in the bar, staring at the drink in her hand. She was in a local bar during happy hour, in the late afternoon. After failing at not one but two job interviews that day, she had decided to go into a bar to have a drink. Silently, she considered her options. Her unemployment was about to run out, and it didn't look like she was going to get a job in her field soon. Her Degree from F.I.T. and years spent in the garment District in New York should have guaranteed her a job in her field, "the rag business."
But with the recession now in full force, she had tried everything to get another job. She had traveled every day to Manhattan, knocking on the door of everyone that she knew in the trade. Only to find that firms weren't hiring, they were instead laying off people because women weren't buying expensive clothes as they did in the 80s.
Brenda had gradually lowered her sights, until she was finally reduced to interviewing for sales positions in various department stores on Long Island. Here too, there was nothing. After six months, she had gradually concluded that there wasn't going to be a job at the end of the rainbow. Her unemployment was going to run out, and she would be reduced to asking her parents for help again.
"Goddamn," Brenda said to herself.
"Excuse me?" asked the woman sitting next to her.
Brenda turned her head to look at the woman sitting next to her. She was an attractive brunette, rather tall, wearing a white silk blouse, red leather skirt, and matching high-heels. A red leather jacket was slung over the back of the barstool, and Brenda observed that she was wearing several expensive gold chains around her neck.
"Nothing, except that life sucks," Brenda answered.
"Want to tell me about it?" asked the woman, "I'm Sheri, and I'm a good listener."
"You don't want to know about it," said Brenda, knocking back the rest of her drink.
"Please, tell me about it?" Sheri asked as she motioned for the bartender to mix another round of drinks for them.
"Well," began Brenda, "I'm about to lose my unemployment benefits, I can't find a job, my rent and car payment are due, and I'm broke."
Brenda picked up her drink and took a good long swallow, enjoying the fire in her throat as the vodka hit her stomach.
"Been out of work long?" Sheri asked.
"Six months. I'm in the rag trade, used to work in the garment center. Now I can't even get a job as a sales clerk in a department store."
Brenda looked at her companion, suddenly realizing that she had seen Sheri when she had entered. From her seat in the bar, she could look outside the window and see the parking lot. Brenda had seen Sheri drive up in an expensive red BMW.
In contrast, Brenda realized how she compared to Sheri. Her plain blouse and skirt, no jewelry, and Toyota made a poor comparison to the affluent woman now sitting next to her.
"Recession's bad, isn't it," commented Sheri.
"Yeah," curtly answered Brenda.
Brenda wasn't just why she had opened up to Sheri. Probably it was the frustration of her circumstances and the alcohol that had started her talking.
But from the way she dressed, the car she drove, and the money she placed on the bar, Sheri wasn't suffering from the recession that was plaguing Brenda.
"Sorry to hear you're doing badly, I'm sympathetic, " said Sherri.
"My dad always told me that you could find sympathy in the dictionary between shit and syphilis," Brenda curtly answered.
Sheri did not reply, taking a long sip from her drink.
"Well," began Sheri, "I provide a need for some people, and I'm paid rather well."
"Are you someone's Mistress, a kept woman?" questioned Brenda.
"Not in the usual sense, no. At least, not in the way you're probably thinking. Tell me, how far would you be willing to go to make a few bucks?"
Brenda's first impulse should have been to stand up and leave, but instead she was interested in what Sheri had to say. Besides, she had nowhere to go.
"Anything," Brenda answered, "Except to get fucked by some jerk."
"What would you say if I could introduce you to something that pays very well, doesn't involve getting fucked by a jerk, and that you might enjoy?"
"I'd say that you were crazy," answered Brenda.
"Trust me," Sheri smiled when she replied.
"Besides, why should you want to help me, a total stranger?"
"Let's just say that I want to help someone in need," Sheri answered.
Sheri sat in her barstool and knocked back the remains of her drink. Placing the glass down on the counter, she looked directly at Brenda.
"How cynical you are. I'll bet that working in New York City turned you into one though broad. How'd you like to use some of that anger to make a few dollars?"
"Okay," answered Brenda, the vodka clouding her judgment, "I'm game."
Sheri removed a pen and pad from her purse, and started writing.
"Got a car?" asked Sheri.
"Yes, I was going......"
"Cancel it. Know Glen Cove? I'll give you directions to my house. Come at nine, sharp. Have dinner, but no more drinks. I want you sober. Don't worry about clothing, I'll provide everything. Just be sure and wear high heels or boots, in black."
Brenda sat silently as Sheri handed her the direction to her house. Then Sheri pushed the stool away from the bar, and put her leather jacket on. She then ran her hands down her hips, smoothing her leather skirt. Sheri was tall for a woman, easily over six feet. Much of her height was in her legs, making her seem all the more attractive. From the curves of her behind to her bosom, Sheri was quite a beautiful woman. Brenda reflected that she was as tall as Sheri, something that she thought lay behind her inability to find a job. Nobody wanted a woman that could intimidate a possible customer or client.
"See you at nine," said Sheri as she turned and clicked her heels as she walked out of the bar.
Brenda sat on her stool, and thought to herself, Why Not?
Later that evening, Brenda stood at Sheri's front door. She had been very impressed with the rich community of Glen Cove, and marveled as she drove to her destination through a winding road. She gasped as she first saw the house through the trees, illuminated by bright lights at every corner.
Sheri opened the front door, and welcomed Brenda inside.
"Good evening, nice to see that you could make it," greeted Sheri.
"Well, you certainly got my curiosity going," Brenda answered.
"That's the spirit. Want to se the house? We've got about an hour," offered Sheri.
Brenda was quite impressed with the house, and had to restrain herself from complimenting her hostess too much. She appreciated the bedrooms, and the furniture. Brenda marveled at the house, and wondered just what it was that Sheri did that made it possible for her to afford such a house.
"Want to know why you're here?" asked Sheri.
"Sure," Brenda answered.
"Come then. Let's go and get dressed."
Brenda followed Sheri down to the basement, where her hostess unlocked a door. This led to a series of rooms separate from the rest of the basement. Then Brenda gasped when she saw its contents after Sheri turned on the lights. Inside, hanging from open closets, were women's clothing that she had only seen in magazines. She identified clothes made of leather, vinyl, and rubber. There were only two colors, red and black.
"Don't tell me you've never seen anything like this before," said Sheri, "You told me that you were in the rag trade, remember."
Suddenly, Brenda remembered her days back on Seventh Avenue. There had been designers who would take on secret commissions from Dominants for their outfits, for the fun of it rather than the money.
"Yes, you're quite right. I have seen things like this before. You're a Dominant," stated Brenda.
When Brenda turned back to speak to Sheri, she found that her hostess was naked. While Brenda had been examining the outfits, Sheri had been undressing.
"What are you waiting for?" asked Sheri, "Get naked and get dressed. You should be able to find something here that fits."
"Yes, Sheri," answered Brenda.
Brenda undressed in silence, finally rendering herself totally naked in front of her hostess. She had always felt self-conscious about her own body, and never comfortable being naked in the presence of other women.
"Relax, I don't bite," said Sheri, "Now select something, and I'll help you get into it."
"Why do you want to help me?" asked Brenda.
"Because you need the money, and my assistant left me. I had a job opening, and I wanted to help you out."
"Thank you," Brenda answered.
Sheri selected a vinyl Catsuit in black that completely covered her from her shapely legs to her wrists and collar. Brenda watched in awe as Sheri zipped herself up, then buckled a belt around her waist. The outfit accentuated all of her curves closely, making her seem even more attractive.
"What are you waiting for? A written invitation?" asked Sheri.
Flustered, Brenda hurried over to the racks. She had never worn anything like this before, and now she had to select something quickly.
Brenda chose a leather bra and skirt, in black, that matched her heels. Sheri helped her by closing her bra in back, and zipping her skirt. Brenda walked over to a mirror, and started to admire herself.
"You look wonderful," commented Sheri.
"Thank you," said Brenda, not certain of her new appearance.
"Let me get into my boots," said Sheri.
Brenda bent down and assisted Sheri in putting on her boots. They were a matching vinyl to the Catsuit, and reached almost to her crotch. Brenda pulled the zipper up gradually, wondering what it would be like to wear such things herself. Sheri pulled the tops up gently and then stood up on her heels.
"Thanks," said Sheri.
"You're welcome," answered Brenda, "Tell me, who are we going to Dominate?"
"He's already here," laughed Sheri, "He's just soaking up the atmosphere in the Dungeon."
"Dungeon? You have a Dungeon?" asked Brenda, a look of astonishment on her face.
"Every home should have one, along with a garage," chuckled Sheri.
"What do you want me to do?" asked Brenda.
"Follow my lead, let me do all the talking, hand me whatever I ask for, listen and learn," replied Sheri, "And you might find yourself an interesting and well paying job."
Walking behind Sheri, Brenda followed her hostess into another room, which proved to be an actual Dungeon! Below the elegant house was a room walled in stone, from which hung all manner of things that Brenda had only seen in pictures before.
Concealing her surprise, Brenda was even more amazed when she saw a naked man, spread-eagled against one of the walls. He was kept in place by leather bracelets and chains, and a leather blindfold had cut off his sight.
Sheri motioned for Brenda to accompany her over to the helpless captive. She walked behind Sheri in silence.
"Who's there?" he asked, their presence made known by the click of their heels on the stone floor.
Sheri calmly walked over to him, making no effort to conceal her presence. She remained silent, as she stood in front of him and reached out with her hands to fondle his naked body.
Brenda had never been prudish about the human body except for her own. One couldn't work in the garment trade without seeing male and female fashion designers work on half clothed or naked women as they created their designs. But there was something totally different about the way that Sheri attended to her bound captive!
She started by grasping his shoulders firmly, then tracing his body downwards with her fingertips. Reaching his nipples, she grasped them firmly, eliciting a moan from him.
"Silent, slave," ordered Sheri, "Or I'll really give you something to cry about!"
Sheri next drew her fingers downwards again, this time coming to his limp penis. She grabbed it firmly with the fingers of one hand, and began to pull on it with gradually increasing firmness. He began to respond to Sheri's attentions, shifting within his bonds and making small sounds.
In time, his cock became erect. The shaft stood out between his legs, erect and ready for action.
Sheri then reached upwards and removed the blindfold. The Dungeon was fully lit, with more than adequate lighting. He blinked several times in the sudden light.
"Hello, slave Stuart," greeted Sheri, "Glad that you can see me again."
"Thank you, Mistress."
Brenda noted to herself that Stuart didn't appear to be the least surprised to see two women in front of him, attired as they were.
"Slave Stuart, this is Brenda, my new assistant. You will obey her as you do me, understand? Else you will be severely punished."
"Good. Just so that we understand each other. Now what did I say about that dick of yours?"
"Thank you didn't want it hard in your presence, Mistress."
"Then why is it hard! Brenda, get me a riding crop, please," ordered Sheri.
Brenda had been so fascinated by what she was seeing that she did not hear her name when she was addressed. Clothed as she was, in the company of a Mistress and her slave, she failed to hear Sheri's request.
Sheri then promptly landed a swat into Brenda's behind, which stung fiercely. Brenda had not been spanked since childhood, and having one planted on her bottom smarted.
"The next time that I ask for something, you had better jump and deliver it," snarled Sheri.
"Yes, Mistress," Brenda quickly answered.
Brenda scurried over to the wall where she had seen implements hanging. Having ridden a horse before, she knew what a riding crop was, and removed it. She virtually ran back to Sheri's side, and handed it to the Mistress.
"That's better," began Sheri, "I demand complete obedience from my assistants, as well as my slaves. Do you understand, Brenda?"
"Good, now back to Stuart here. You've been a bad boy, haven't you? And I'm here to put you in your place isn't that right?"
"Yes, Mistress," he quickly answered.
"That's better. Now kiss the crop, Stuart," Sheri ordered.
Sheri ordered the crop to Stuart, and he began to kiss it lovingly, as if it were the lips of a woman. He kissed the leather wrapped handle, again and again.
"Just because you're so good doesn't mean that you're going to get away with not being punished," said Sheri.
When Brenda had ridden horses (an expensive sport) she had heard stories of people who had used their crops on their boy and girlfriends, but she had never believed it.
But when Sheri began to strike Stuart with the crop, Brenda was help speechless by the event. She was in awe of the fact that Sheri was using the crop on a naked man's body, and he writhed under her punishment.
"That's better, Stuart."
Brenda noticed that while Stuart was being punished, it did appear that Sheri was putting everything into it. Was this just for show? With summer coming on, it would be rather inconvenient for Stuart to be walking around marked by a riding crop.
"Thank you, Mistress," cried Stuart.
Sheri grabbed his cock, which was no longer erect. It was now limp and flaccid, no doubt caused by Sheri's punishment.
"That's better, Stuart. Now, let's do something else. Brenda, release him."
Unlike the first order that she had been given, this time Brenda was alert and ready when Sheri ordered her into action. She quickly walked over to Stuart's side, and discovered that he had been secured to the wall, like those used on luggage. He was wearing a kind of leather bracelet that had projecting rings in the shape of a D. She snapped them open, releasing him from the wall.
"That's better, Brenda. Things go much more smoothly when I get obeyed."
"Stuart, I want you to show Brenda and myself just how you know I like to be treated. Or I'll use the crop on you again," threatened Sheri.
Brenda noted that Stuart was quite an attractive man. Tall, athletic, well muscled, and already tanned, he was the sort of guy that any woman would be interested in. Instead, he knelt in front of Sheri and proceeded to place his hands behind his back. Then her bent over and began to kiss and lick Sheri's vinyl boot!
Brenda was speechless and entranced by the sight of Stuart kissing Sheri's boot. She had not really known just what to expect what to expect tonight, but this had exceeded all expectations!
Starting at her toe, Stuart slowly ran his tongue from the tip at the front to the five-inch heel at the back.
"That's very good, Stuart. Why don't you do the other one," ordered Sheri.
Stuart attended to Sheri's other leg as he had done the first. Brenda could see that he clearly was devoted to what he was doing.
Sheri stood straight, without speaking. She held the crop in her hands, flexing the leather-clad bamboo in her fingers. She would occasionally reach down to touch Stuart with the tip, which had the effect of making him moan with pleasure and delight.
"Why don't you attend to Brenda? I'm sure that she would like to have her feet worshipped," ordered Sheri after quite some time.
"Yes, Mistress," answered Stuart.
Stuart walked on his knees over to Brenda. He bent down and was soon kissing the toes of Brenda's shoes. Brenda had correctly guessed that she would need stockings tonight, and she was wearing as garter belt with black stocking. The tops were just about the hem of her leather skirt, making her legs look even more attractive.
Sheri reached over and handed the crop to Brenda. Brenda took the handle, and gradually traced its tip on Stuart's bare back as Sheri had done. Each time she did so, Stuart moaned with pleasure.
Brenda looked at Stuart, as if she meant to strike Stuart with the crop. Sheri mouthed the words "Okay" to her, and Brenda proceeded to strike Stuart four times lightly. Brenda enjoyed the feeling that it gave her.
"Enjoying yourself, Brenda? Do you like having a man at your feet?"
"Yes, Mistress. I do!" declared Brenda.
Hours later, after Stuart had left and they had changed into more normal clothes again, Brenda and Sheri were sitting in the living room over a couple of drinks.
"Ever do anything like this before?" asked Sheri.
"No, Mistress," answered Brenda.
"You can cut the mistress part for now. That's for my slaves and clients. Want to be one?"
Brenda was amazed by Sheri's question. There was no doubt that she was intrigued by the events here tonight, and she was wet with excitement when Stuart licked her shoes and she struck him with the crop.
"In any event, this is for you," said Sheri as she passed over an envelope.
Since it wasn't sealed, Brenda was startled when she saw that there was a crisp new hundred inside.
"Is the position of assistant still open?" asked Brenda.
"I think that it's just been filled, don't you?" replied Sheri.
Brenda smiled and finished the rest of her drink. Maybe this chance meeting had changed her life for the better!
Views today: 0
Total views: 332
The following work was posted by sfmaster, and may feature strong graphic content exclusive to mature audiences. No person younger than 18 years shall access this content, regardless of the presence of parental supervision or legal guardianship. Viewing this content represents acceptance of Shadowy Tales’s terms and conditions. No underage human, animals or other sentient being should be included in this post, regardless whether the post is a fictional story or factual account of real events, as per our rules, by the original author and poster of this content. If you feel that this content violates our Content Quality guidelines, let our admins know by email at firstname.lastname@example.org
A Matter of Class PT1
A Matter of Class PT2
A Matter of Class PT3
A Matter of Trust
A Slave to Capitalism PT01
Davinia CH03 PT1