Chp 1. The Slightly Off-White Room

The door swung shut behind her with a satisfying click. She stood and surveyed the room, seemingly bereft of furniture, an oblong table by the window, a tall standing mirror against one wall, standing lamps scattered around and the chair. The large brown leather armchair which dominated the space and faced the rooms only window, its back to the door. Next to the chair the kneeling figure of a man. Unlike the chair, he was facing the rooms door.

Her day had been long dull and boring, the seemingly interminable meetings lightened only by the knowledge that she would be here this evening. In this room, that was becoming like a second home to her. He knelt, head bowed, waiting. Naked except for the collar which adorned his neck and a long white waiter's apron tied at the waist, which covered the bulge of a chastity cage. The key to that precious cage dangled from a chain around her wrist. 'Later' she mused. Later she might enjoy using that key, if the mood took her, but not yet. Not yet. There were, after all, formalities to be observed. Rewards had to be earned, did they not.

She crossed the room. The echo of her heels clicking on the wooden floor reverberating around the walls, filling his senses. His head raised neck craning towards her approaching form. As she positioned herself in front of him a shy smile briefly crossed his face. She stopped besides the chair, her hand resting on its back for balance. Extending one leg towards the man, her voice broke the rooms silence. 'Kiss. Shoe'.

The issuing of two-word commands was one her favourite parts of the dance. They could convey so much, so efficiently. Yet also if the mood took her be left vague. Allowing her the entertainment of watching his puzzled face crease as he sought for ways to obey and please. That confusion amused her, sometimes. Not at this moment thought. She watched as he began to cover the patent black leather of her footwear with slow longing, lingering kisses. The pleasure of her power over him slowly beginning to fill her body.

'Shoe. Off,' She ordered. He ducked his head and slipped the length of the stiletto heal in to his mouth. Then pulled his head gently towards the floor the shoe slipping from her heel. She knew that he wasn't particularly retifistically inclined. This fact enhanced her sense of power. He would behave as she wished, not to please himself but to be pleasing to her. Both shoes removed she ordered them cleared away, and as he crawled off she moved round to look out through the window.

She barely glanced to her left at the table beside her. She did not need to. It would contain the usual familiar array of implements and tools. She would make her selection later. She looked through the window at the street outside, several floors below. People rushing hither and thither like ants on their own pathetic and insignificant paths to who cared where.

She sensed his presence behind her. Turning to face him she took a step towards the kneeling figure. Pulling up the hem of her knee length dress to reveal the tops of her silk stockings and the clasps from the suspender belt which kept them in place.

'Stockings. Off.' She ordered and felt his fingers move quickly to release the clasps. His strong hands gently rolled the sagging stocking down past her knee and over her calf. His hand cupping her calf as he guided the silky material past her ankle. She pushed her knee forward lifting her foot slightly from the ground to allow him to finish the job. His fingers plucked at the toe of the garment, pulling the rolled hosiery free of her foot.

When he had completed the disrobing of her other leg, while he crawled away to place her stockings reverently upon the table, she sat herself upon the chair. The leather of its finely upholstered seat felt cool against her tiered calves, as she adjusted the cushion behind her. As soon as she had made herself comfortable, he came crawling back towards her. She observed his movements with a faint air of amusement. He crawled to within touching distance of her feet, then stopped. Bringing his hands off the floor he straightened his back and knelt there, hands palm upwards at the tops of his thighs. His head slightly lowered in obeisance, his eyes not meeting hers. Her eyes ran across his body. Not a perfect physical specimen. Far from a perfect physical specimen, she mused, but still not without value. He had some useful skills, and an attitude which she appreciated. The willingness to obey and strong desire to please. 'Foot. Massage,' She Stated, wiggling the toes of her left foot at him. He shuffled forward his hands cupping her delicate limb. As his thumbs began to press firmly into the fleshy pads around her sole, she sighed. Relaxing back into the chair the stresses of the week began to fade away.

Why did she wear those silly shoes, anyway, she wondered. Because, she mused, of the effect that they had on a certain kind of man. The certain kinds of men she was obliged to deal with daily in the course of her career. It made some of them, most of them to be fair, a lot more pliable. Her mind began to wander back over the day's events. There had been that ghastly project meeting with that obnoxious prick from finance. 'Sorry,' she reproached herself but there really were no other words to describe that man. And the idiot from IT was almost worse. She stopped her train of thought. Offering her other foot up to the tender ministrations of the man who knelt at her feet, she consciously willed her mind to go blank and to allow the sensations of her body to take over. She would work on her little project problem later. Now was a time for relaxation.